Since maybe last spring
by stardustkr7
Summary: "Who was it, Dick?" A pause and then- "Bette Kane." He avoided looking at her face. Finally, with a sad smile, Barbara said softly, "Of course it was." Set between end of comic and beginning of season 2.
1. Part One

A/N: Okay here's the first part of my newest little story. Timeline information: takes place between where the Young Justice comics left off and where Season Two starts. Basically, this will cover the month of December during Team Year Five.

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

**Part One**

"You know you didn't really have to accompany me home."

"After what happened in Metropolis, can you blame me, BG?"

Batgirl rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as her and Nightwing stole their way to the rooftop after exiting the Gotham zeta tube.

He caught her, pulled her close, and leaned in for another kiss. Memories swirled around her mind of a similar rooftop, with a warmer evening breeze of late spring tousling her red tresses.

"Hmm, maybe I should be following you home," Barbara commented lightly.

"As much as I would prefer that, I need to patrol tonight," Dick said. His arms stayed firmly wrapped around her waist.

"On your birthday? Quite the dedication, Hunk Wonder," she teased.

"Yeah, well, I kinda skipped last night," he said sheepishly.

"Instead of letting yourself have a night off on your birthday, especially after the day we had, you decided not to patrol the night before?" she said, raising an eyebrow. Her grip slackened some as she leaned back to peer up at him and her hands came to rest on his arms.

"Well, when you put it that way," Dick muttered. She could almost imagine the eye roll behind the domino mask.

"What were you up to last night anyway? You didn't even answer my text."

"Keeping up appearances. Dick Grayson's presence was requested at clandestine, collegiate soiree," he reported, grinning.

If they had been having a moment, she felt it slipping away. She let her arms drop and he reluctantly followed suit.

"Right, of course," she replied, rolling her eyes. "How come you didn't pull a Bruce and leave early?"

"Uh, because I'm not an anti-social, emotionally unstable, loner?" he tried, raising an eyebrow.

"Who was it this time? Lara from philosophy? Or maybe Emily from linear algebra?"

"Geez, Babs, practically call me a slut."

Barbara sighed. Among the learned behaviors Dick picked up from his adoptive father, it seemed no one really informed him that the billionaire playboy thing was an act. While annoying to watch, it never seriously bothered her.

"It's not like you haven't bragged before," she pointed out.

"I don't brag, I just answer truthfully." He winked.

"Right. Which brings me back to my original question. Who did you take home last night that prevented you from patrolling?"

Dick hesitated, frowning slightly. The question wasn't accusatory at all. Barbara was just curious. Why did he feel so much apprehension at answering?

But now she was really curious with each passing second that Dick failed to answer the question.

"You don't want to tell me. Why don't you want to tell me?" she asked shrewdly.

"It's not that …" he tried, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Seriously, Dick, I'm not mad. Would it help if I apologized for almost calling you a slut? Next time should I stick with man-whore or rich playboy?"

He shook he head. "It's no big deal, Babs."

"Is it embarrassing?"

"No …"

"Was it … was it a guy?"

"What?" Dick squeaked.

"Not that I would judge you … I've heard people sometimes make the assumption …"

He stared at her for a moment, wondering who exactly these people were. "Why …?"

"I really don't know. Maybe it's the tight pants. But anyway, why won't you tell me? You normally tell me everything. I thought we don't keep secrets anymore."

"It really doesn't matter that much Babs. Especially if, I mean, you and I and what happened earlier …" he said uneasily. "I don't want it to end before it begins."

"Why do you think she's a deal breaker? Is it actually someone I know well?" Barbara questioned, starting to get a slight sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Either that or she was just hungry.

"I guess, well, I mean, it wasn't planned or anything. I was surprised to see her there. She didn't even recognize me at first," he rambled.

"Okay. Who was it, Dick?" she asked flatly, folding her arms.

A pause and then-

"Bette Kane."

There was silence on the rooftop, or as silent Gotham could get, even on a chilly winter night like this one. He avoided looking at her face.

"Bette Kane? As in, went to Gotham Academy with us? Socialite heiress? That Bette Kane? Or is there another I'm unaware of," she said, tetchily.

"Yeah."

Finally, with a sad smile, Barbara said softly, "Of course it was." Another few tense minutes passed before she added, "I'd better go. Bye Nightwing."

Before he could even gather his wits to stop her, she had already shoved past him. On reflex, he dove forward to grab her arm. It happened very fast; she pulled and twisted the wrist of the hand attached to her while kicking out his feet from under him. He was already off-balance so she used his momentum against him. He landed with a loud thud and she twisted his arm into his shoulder in a tight lock.

"Ow! Batgirl! Stop!" he said to the dirty cement floor pressed to his face.

"Don't follow me! Don't grab at me! I'm going home now," she growled at him in her best Bat voice. She roughly let go of his arm and leapt into the night before he could even get up.

Several rooftops and line swings away, she finally stopped, sure he hadn't dared follow her this time, and attempted to gather her thoughts as she paced.

Bette Kane. It had to be her. Fuck, she thought she was done dealing with the other girl once they had graduated high school.

Bette was in her year back at Gotham Academy. They were sophomores when Dick was a freshman. And except for her occasional superior, social ladder climbing tendencies, she was damn near perfect. Barbara, being naturally a perfectionist, found the perfect rival.

The tall, attractive blonde was class president, pep squad leader, and tennis champion. While Barbara only remembered being a gawky redhead with freckles and glasses, who was captain of the gymnastics team and the mathaletes. They were both the top of the class in every subject they shared. It was exhausting but something about the popular girl made her want to try her hardest, as if to prove she belonged.

Her whole adolescence could probably be defined by trying to prove she belonged.

The thing that really sucked about her time at GA with Bette was that the girl was actually really, genuinely nice. She had been brought up with money which did give her a vague sense of superiority, but she wasn't ever mean about it. They had a healthy rivalry but also a casual friendship. Barbara would even occasionally eat lunch with her or join her and Artemis for sleepovers and shopping trips. They weren't trading friendship bracelets or anything but they definitely weren't stooping to any Mean Girl-esque sorts of sabotage. It was frustrating.

Bette was practically the Cedric Diggroy of Gotham Academy. Everyone loved her.

It was a clean fight. They never competed when it came to dating. Barbara never even bragged about being best friends with the richest kid in the city, Dick Grayson. Besides, Bette would have blown her out of the water in that competition. School, gymnastics, activities, and vigilantism took up a lot of her dating time in high school.

She really had thought it was all over when they graduated. She had even considered herself the winner when she was named Valedictorian and Bette was named Salutatorian. So what if Bette was rich and popular and smart if Babs was the absolute top of the class?

Babs rubbed at her eyes, perched on the ledge of the building. _I am not going to compete with my old high school rival for some boy's affections_, she told herself furiously. She never had done so in the past. Just because the boy in question was Dick, meant nothing. _I can't let this bother me._

It was always the wrong timing for them, she decided as she picked herself up and continued on towards home. Just like last spring.

Stupid Nightwing. No, stupid Dick.

She really wanted to just be mad at him. Even if he probably didn't deserve her wrath. He hadn't actually betrayed her. All of this took place before today's game-changing events. But of all the women in the world who would literally be happy to throw themselves at Dick Grayson, he had to hook up with her. Hadn't he known how she would feel about it?

A cry echoed up from an alleyway, thankfully distracting her thoughts and giving her an outlet for her building rage. Nothing like fighting crime to sooth one's soul. She peered over the ledge, taking in the scene below of four assailants cornering a smaller figure. Quietly, she hopped to a lower ledge for a closer look, already planning out which thug to take out first.

She was close enough now to hear the coaxing sneer of one of the men as another one grabbed the petite figure's arm. The girl struggled and cried out again for help. Batgirl made her move.

Spreading out her cape to form the intimidating bat silhouette, she leapt from her perch and swung a foot into the face of one of the guys. He stumbled back, shouting curses but she was already twirling around to take out another.

Any remaining pain or tiredness of the day's mission left her as she fought the little gang. This was why she became Batgirl. To stop scum like this. So no young woman would have to be afraid of walking home at night. Because she knew she could help and wanted to make her city a better place. Because of the satisfying crunch under knuckles as she smashed the offender's jaw.

It ended viciously and way too fast for Batgirl's liking. Two were still moaning on the ground while the third was knocked out and the fourth struggled to pull himself up against a wall.

She strode over to him and with the last bit of adrenaline-fueled strength she possessed, she pulled him up by the neck of his shirt and growled, "Don't let me catch you harassing people ever again." She threw him to the ground and turned to the young woman who was obviously trying to calm her breathing. In a kinder voice, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks Batgirl," she answered, sounding more tired than like she was actually recovering from fear.

"You should get home," Babs advised, preparing to return to the rooftops, grapple in hand.

"You too," she said wearily, making her way back to the street.

People in Gotham looked so weary at times. It made her sad.

* * *

Dick knew he was really in trouble the next day when Bette texted him an invitation to get coffee later on. In trouble, but not exactly surprised. Women commonly went out of their way to make the next move when they realized he was _that_ Dick Grayson. It was hard not to be smug.

Barbara was definitely mad at him and he knew it was because of the thing with Bette, which he definitely had not ever planned on making into a regular thing in the first place. He wasn't completely oblivious; he knew they had been on complicated terms back in high school. They were friends, but they still felt the need to one up each other. He didn't understand it so he tended to trivialize it. The only thing he could think of to compare it to was the small twinge of jealousy every non powered hero felt when working with a super powered teammate.

He shook his head, staring at the unanswered text. It was Barbara's problem, something she should have gotten over by now since they had been out of high school for two years. She had never made it easy for him. But here was a girl who did like him and wanted to spend time with him.

Without thinking too hard on it, he replied. _Sounds great, see you later_. Smiley face. Send.

"So, we really didn't get much of a chance to catch up," Bette began after they had settled in at a table in an upscale café in one of the nicer Gotham neighborhoods.

"Yeah, so, what have you been doing since high school? College? Working?" Dick asked, forcing down any lingering unease. He determined to enjoy this date.

"Working on my business degree but I also work with my dad's company a lot. I help run the company's humanitarian efforts. Our charity foundation isn't quite as big as the Wayne Foundation, but we're growing," she said cheerfully.

"That sounds great, Bette," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, we built a school in Africa. My dad visited it last summer. He took a special interest in that project. See?" She flipped through some pictures on her phone and held one up to show him. It looked a bit like a typical publicity shot to him, but she seemed so proud of it that he nodded approvingly.

"Cool, what are you working on next?"

"A clinic. A lot of my job is pitching ideas for benefits and putting them together. All those years of being a debutante and learning how to plan a party are finally starting to pay off."

"Well, you're definitely quite the lady," he said, charmingly to which she giggled prettily.

"I'm planning a huge event for January. I'll make sure you're sent an invitation."

"I look forward to it."

One coffee date quickly became a second coffee date the next day. Then a dinner date a few days later, after which she ended up in his bed again and he decided to not feel guilty about seeing her more. Then, since it was winter time and he was pro at adorable clichés, he took her ice skating.

Dick really started to enjoy spending the time with Bette. She was a fun girl. And even though she had a bright, cheerful sort of personality, she definitely did not conform to any ditzy blonde typecast, if her sharp wit proved anything. They had not always frequented the same social circles back in school but there was enough shared experiences to draw on to keep the conversation going. And when they weren't reminiscing, she could easily keep up a conversation about grown up topics like work or politics or global business. He tried to stay clear of any topics that could lead to a discussion about Barbara though.

In the middle of the week, he tried calling her but she didn't answer. He lost his nerve before the end of her voicemail greeting though and hung up without leaving a message. If Barbara wanted to ignore his calls and avoid the Cave then that was fine. It was pointless to try to work things out if she was still going to be angry with him.

* * *

"Thanks again for spotting for me, Cassie," said Barbara as she finished adding weights to each side of the bar before lying down on the bench.

The lively blonde smiled, took her place, and said, "No problem, BG. Though I'm surprised you're not taking it easier today."

"I needed the distraction," she answered, gripping the bar and preparing to do a few bench presses. Her frustration had carried over a busy week filled with classes, work, and patrolling (and avoiding Nightwing). By that morning, she felt the need for a long, strenuous workout. She had already finished a run and gymnastics practice. It wasn't enough, so now she was pumping iron with Wonder Girl standing over her as spotter and cheer leader. Her enthusiasm was contagious at times and Barbara felt herself relax as she finished a rep.

"That was great, Barbara!" Cassie said.

"Easy for you to say, Wonder Girl," Barbara said, but she returned the small smile. "Add five to each side for me?"

"Sure thing. So, what did you think of the new guy? Blue Beetle?" Cassie went to work adjusting the weights.

"Well, he's a newbie but I think he'll fit in nicely. I take it you managed to convince him to join?" Barbara said, raising an eyebrow at the younger girl.

"Yeah, well, I think it helped that Nightwing insisted he come along the other day. Nothing like finding yourself caught up in saving the world to make you want to make it an every day sort of thing," she giggled.

"Hmm. And what does Cassie think of the boy behind the bug?" she asked with a small smirk, quickly ignoring the little jolt of her nerves when Cassie mentioned Nightwing.

The blonde blushed. "Well, Jaime is kinda cute. He seems a little distracted, but I like him so far," she said shyly.

Barbara lay back on the bench again to do another set. "That's good," she managed to comment before focusing on her breathing and lifting.

"You know, Barb, I really do love getting to save people. It's definitely the absolute, number one, best part of the job," she began slowly. "But it is kind of a perk that there are so many cute guys on the team. Not that I'm, like, boy crazy or would even try anything with most of them, but, you know …" she trailed off apprehensively.

She set the bar back on its rack so she could chuckle slightly and respond. "It's okay, Cassie, I understand what you're saying. I agree, we definitely have access to some prime eye candy. And trust me, they're looking at us too." Gripping the bar again, she started on another set. "So, who have you been eyeing lately?"

"Well, you know, Conner and Mal are definitely hot. And L'gann isn't too bad when he and Miss Martian aren't being totally revolting." She wrinkled her nose slightly and Babs had to agree with the sentiment. "Of course, Nightwing is undeniably the hottest on the team and he's just so nice," she said with a sigh.

Damn. It looked like Barbara was not going to escape the Nightwing subject today. She plastered a fake grin on her face as she glanced up.

"Crush on the boss?"

"Not really! I just have to keep consciously calling him boss to remind myself, you know," Cassie said with a laugh.

They fell quiet for a few minutes while Barbara focused on her lifting, channeling her lingering irritation into each press. But the younger girl, who was always quite chatty, fidgeted restlessly, still clearly bursting to say what was on her mind.

"What is it Cassie?" Barbara asked, breathing heavily, resting her arms.

"Well, don't you and Nightwing have a bit of a, well, thing? I mean, you guys flirt a lot. And aren't you guys friends in civilian life too?" she asked, biting her lip thoughtfully.

The older girl sighed, regretting inviting her to speak her mind. "Yes, I know Nightwing's identity," she said, avoiding the first question.

"I once heard Wally say he's a bit of a, well, a player," she said, lowering her voice.

"I don't think he has a lot of serious relationships. With our jobs, it's not easy to make time to date civilians. Not to mention it's a safety hazard. So, yes, Wally does like to congratulate his buddy for getting around so much," Barbara said quietly, sitting up to look at her plainly. "But don't let that ruin your good opinion of him. He does treat the women he sees very well." She felt like someone should give her a damn award for being mad at Dick but still managing to speak so complimentary of him.

"And the two of you?" Cassie prompted her.

"Nothing is going on between me and Nightwing. We're just friends and teammates," she said simply, clenching the edge of the bench to keep from showing any other tension.

"Okay," she replied, obviously getting the vibe that Barbara no longer wanted to discuss their esteemed leader. "Well, Robin is a real cutie too."

"Robin is like my little brother," Barbara pointed out, getting up to move to some free weights. "But the kid definitely needs to get some action."

"Barbara!" said Cassie, trying to look scandalized but she was stifling another laugh.

Both girls were still giggling when Robin himself poked his head in the doorway of the weight room, curiously. "Hey, BG, did you still want to practice some sparring today?" he asked, glancing between her and Cassie interestedly.

"Yeah, Robin, meet me on the mat in fifteen," she said. He nodded, shot another curious glance at them, and left.

"Do you think he heard me?" Cassie asked, grinning embarrassedly.

"It's possible. He's getting pretty good at sneaking around. Thanks for spotting me," she said, hanging her towel around her shoulders as they walked out of the weight room.

"Thanks for listening to my chattering."

Approximately twenty five minutes later found Tim Drake flying across the mat, not of his own free will, and landing with a loud thud. Dazed, he groaned and decided to lay there for a few more seconds before a shadow fell over him. He peered up at the redheaded rage that just handed his ass to him, who now looked awfully apologetic.

"Sorry, Robin. I didn't mean to throw you that hard," she said, offering him a hand up.

"Let's just say you won that round," said Tim, taking her hand as he got to his feet, rubbing at the hip he landed on. "I needed the falling practice anyway."

They made their way off the mats to sit on the bench.

"So, I see you're in a good mood today," Tim observed as he reached for his water.

"Sorry, Tim, maybe I should have asked Cassie to practice with me instead," said Barbara, now feeling guilty. The boy had been wearing his Robin costume which made her think of a certain former bird. It just escalated.

"It's fine. But you can't stay mad at him forever, you know," Tim pointed out. Barbara didn't even bother to marvel over how the little detective in training seemed to figure out the source of her emotional turmoil.

"It's complicated."

"What exactly happened? When you guys left together that day, it looked like a done deal."

_I got an updated list of who's been in his bed recently and it pissed me off_.

She debated what to tell him. For the most part, Tim was smart enough to keep an objective viewpoint. But Dick had really taken him in and become a surrogate older brother to him. When Nightwing praised his work, Tim's whole face lit up. At times, Barbara suspected Dick's opinion meant more to him than even Batman's. Like with Cassie, she didn't want to bitch about her problems and make him feel like he needed to choose sides.

"Tim, you don't need to worry. It's my problem really," she tried. Her anxiety was starting to fade and now she just felt exhausted.

"Come on, Barb. Maybe I could talk to him."

Barbara shook her head. Tim could be a real sweet kid some times. "No, it's just bad timing again. I'll get over it," she assured him. Eventually. She would get over it. Perhaps even get over him this time.

"Are you still going to patrol with us tonight? Batman needs all of us," Tim said after a moment.

"Of course. Just because I'm mad at Nightwing doesn't mean I can't work with him."


	2. Part Two

** A/N:** Thanks so much for the response! I was definitely worried no one would agree with how I saw all this.

Anyway, much like the YJ show, things get worse. This is where I'm really starting to worry about out-of-characterness because there are some parts where our heroes are just downright mean.

Also, a note about some timeline assumptions I'm making: Can't remember off the top of my head which episode it was, but Nightwing mentioned that he had been leader for approximately nine months? So I'm assuming there was some sort of event in late spring or so where he finally took command. Also, for some reason, I have it in my mind that Tim has been Robin for like, four months now? I could be making that up though or getting it from another fic or something. But yeah. Hopefully its not too confusing.

Also, it might be a few more days before part three because I'm not totally confident about it yet.

Happy Reading!

**Part Two**

Most of her anger indeed burned out that afternoon and she ended up crashing as soon as she got back from the Cave. Barbara awoke from her nap several hours later, startled for a second by how dark it was outside until she consulted her watch and reassured herself that she had a couple hours before she was expected in the Batcave.

Her saunter to the kitchen ended in disappointment when she failed to find much there for dinner. It looked like her father ordered in instead of cooking before heading to work. There was a note telling her not to wait up for him, pinned next to a reminder that they were expected for dinner at Wayne Manor tomorrow night at 6pm sharp. She idly munched on a slice of cold veggie pizza and considered leaving early to see if Alfred would feed her something more substantial. But going early meant the possibility of running into Nightwing and she just wasn't ready to apologize for her slight overreaction yet. She managed to wash down the meager supper with a protein shake and a sports drink before packing up her things and leaving the apartment.

As she probably could have predicted though, her calm did not last long when Batman had decided it would be a good idea to position Batgirl and Nightwing together on the roof opposite the building they were targeting. They were watching and waiting for the signal to move in from above while Batman and Robin took the entrances to the warehouse.

The tension between them was easily beginning to rise, the longer they stood there in silence. It had been just about a week since the argument, which hadn't been much of an argument at all, Dick decided. It was really just Barbara being mad at him for being himself. Nightwing stood with his arms crossed, feeling more and more like he was in the right here, like he had done nothing wrong. There was nothing going on between them before his birthday. He did not owe her an apology.

But he definitely did not like the silence. So things hadn't worked out this time around. They could still be friends, like always. He still cared.

"Babs, listen," he began quietly.

"No names in the field," she whispered, peering through binoculars and trying to ignore the man leaning on the ledge next to her.

"I don't understand why you're so mad at me."

Slowly, she lowered the binoculars and took a deep breath. "That's because you clearly never had a good understanding of my relationship with Bette Kane," she said lowly.

"It was high school, Babs. And you guys were friends!" he whispered hurriedly.

"She's a social climber. She was friends with me when it was convenient. Remember when she crashed your birthday party with Artemis?"

Dick rolled his eyes behind his mask. "Come on, that was years ago and I knew they would show up. And everyone does stupid things when they are fifteen."

"Yeah, well, she didn't really start being friends with me until after that, when she realized how close I was with you!" she hissed at him.

"So, what? You've been competing for my friendship? Or, just for me?"

It was probably the wrong thing to say, judging by the furious glare she gave him.

"Don't be stupid, Dick," she said coolly. It was unclear whether she was using his name or not.

"Guys, it's time to move in," Robin spoke in both of their ears.

The bust was a success. They had caught the drug pushers in the act of making a huge trade. She hated to admit it, but she fought somewhat sloppy, made a few mistakes that could have been devastating if no one else were watching her back. Batgirl was just finishing up with securing all the gang members while they waited for the police to arrive.

"Personal problems don't belong in the field," said a dark, growling voice above her.

She grunted and wanted to say something scathing about how the Batman's personal problems seemed to belong in the field, how his had practically started the damn mission.

"I expect better," Batman finished, leaving her to her zip ties. Seething, she accidentally pulled one too tight and the man complained about not being able to feel his hands. Batgirl took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, using every bit of self-control to not punch his lights out, and went about fixing it.

A few feet away, Batman was speaking with Nightwing now (and definitely was not telling him off for letting his emotions make him sloppy).

"A asked me to remind you about tomorrow. You're expected at six," Batman growled.

"I know, I remember," Nightwing replied, off-handedly.

She pulled a face as she listened to Bruce remind him about the family dinner tomorrow. Maybe she could convince her father to not make her go. She sincerely doubted it.

Hearing sirens in the distance, she decided it was time to leave, whether she was still needed or not. Barbara normally didn't stick around for long when Gotham PD were arriving on the scene, just in case her father or someone he worked with was there and happened to recognize her despite the cowl covering half her face.

* * *

Although she wasn't sure if she would be bothered to answer, Barbara found herself annoyed that Dick had not called her the next day. They had both said pretty hurtful things. He had made her sound like another stupid girl who was obsessed with him and mad that he hadn't noticed her. She had implied Bette was only dating him for the social status and that he was stupid for not realizing it.

While she could probably owe him an apology for part of it, he was completely wrong to think there had been nothing between them. There had always been something between them. Especially since last spring, before they lost three of their teammates, two to death and one to their enemies. It all happened so quickly and then Tim became Robin and Nightwing was team leader; they had no time to sit and examine their feelings for each other. So they smoothed it all over and just remained close friends.

Close friends who had slept with each other.

Nightwing hadn't been lying when he said it was his super power that he was able to stay friends with every female with whom he'd had a romantic entanglement. But there was a first time for everything.

"Are you okay, Honey?" her father's voice shook her out of her thoughts.

"Fine, Dad," she answered, glancing over at him with a small smile.

"I know you had a stressful week but I'm glad you came with me," he said as the car pulled in to the great driveway in front of the Manor.

A long time ago, when Barbara first put on her handmade batsuit and joined the caped crusaders of the night, she endeavored to keep her activities quiet from her father. When Batman finally accepted her, he grudgingly agreed to keep her secret. It was a difficult secret to keep. By senior year of high school, she was so overwhelmed that she had finally broken down and decided to reveal her identity to her father. Before she could even finish the phrase, "Dad, I'm Batgirl," he confessed that she did not need to say anything. Now, it was an open secret. Officially, Jim Gordon the police commissioner had no idea who the Bats of Gotham were. Unofficially, they occasionally invited him over for a family dinner. If anyone asked, it was incredibly easy to say that Dick and Barbara had been best friends since middle school and the two families had bonded. Most parents are friends with the parents of their kids' friends after all.

"No problem. You know I wouldn't miss Alfred's cooking," she said as they climbed out of the car and up the front steps. She rang the doorbell and a few seconds later, could hear the scurrying of feet just before Tim opened the door.

"Hi Barbara, Commissioner. Come in," he said chirpily, stepping back and holding out an arm to take their coats.

"Jim, glad you could make it," said Bruce, shaking hands with the other man. "Hello Barbara. I think Dick said he would be here soon. I did tell him Alfred expected him at six," he added as they made their way to one of the more casual sitting rooms.

"Great," said Barbara simply. She deposited herself in a chair by the fireplace far enough away that she could listen to the conversation without being expected to participate.

"How are things, Jim?"

"Well, I'm sure you read the paper this morning and heard about last night," Jim answered, chuckling at the inside joke. "But now we're dealing with budget cuts and the mayor wants me to approve a plan to cut salary increases for the next three years. It's hard to keep everyone happy."

"I agree, the board at WE keeps looking at our profit margin and wants to cut jobs. It's the last thing we need here," Bruce agreed. "If it helps, next time I take the Porsche out, I'll speed through one of your ticket traps." That got a laugh out of all three men.

"Hey …"

The four occupants of the room looked up to the doorway to see Dick standing there, looking confused. And then someone appeared at his side and the confusion of the room heightened.

"Hi," said Bette, smiling politely at the room.

Barbara blinked, trying very hard to keep her face neutral. Dick looked back and forth between her and her father. Tim looked surprised and somewhat worried. Jim just looked confused about why everyone else seemed so confused. Bruce was the first one to recover.

He stood and walked over to the couple, offering a welcoming handshake to the blonde.

"Bette Kane, right? You went to Gotham Academy with Dick and Barbara," said Bruce, starting to slip into his easy-going party host persona.

"Yes, Mr. Wayne. I'm so sorry to just drop in. Dick said it would be alright," she said, turning slightly pink. "We were out ice skating and lost track of time and he said dinner was at six …"

Tim coughed, although it sounded suspiciously like he was covering up snort of amusement or derision.

_He's still seeing her. He's still seeing her! Even after … _

Barbara gripped the arms of her chair. One argument and he gave up on her? She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

"Nonsense! You're more than welcome, Bette. Please, call me Bruce. I'll just go let Alfred know we'll need another place setting," Bruce said smoothly as he ushered them into the room and edged out to head for the kitchen.

"Right, um, Bette, this is Tim, practically my little brother. And you remember Babs from school and her father, Jim Gordon," Dick said, uselessly waving his hand around the room.

"Barbara Gordon! Oh, it's so good to see you!" said Bette, stepping into the room and over to the redhead's chair.

Barbara slowly stood, considered making a break for it to join Bruce and Alfred in the kitchen, but before she could come to a decision, her view was obscured by soft, blonde waves. "It's good to see you too, Bette," she said, awkwardly returning the hug.

"I had no idea you would be here too. Now I don't feel so bad for intruding," she said, finally letting go of her shoulders. As if _she_ was intruding on family dinner too.

"Yeah, well, we heard Alfred was making prime rib and couldn't resist," Babs replied, smiling weakly. She glanced over Bette's shoulder to see Dick awkwardly shaking her father's hand and Tim looking torn between supporting her or his brother. Dammit, Dick. It didn't even look like he had remembered she was coming over for dinner too so it couldn't be some sort of malicious payback for their fight the previous evening.

Luckily they were saved from further small talk when Alfred announced dinner was ready and they trouped in to the dining room where Bruce was already taking his seat at the head of the table and pouring wine. She was thankful when he poured some in her glass and her dad didn't say anything about it. And then she realized that her place setting ended up being directly across from Bette. As soon as the other girl opened her mouth, Barbara picked up her glass, intent on emptying it.

Soon they were regaled with the tales of how Bette was getting her business degree and running a charity organization for her father's company. How she wished she had more time to make it out to the country club for a friendly tennis match with her old friends. How her next project was going to be setting up a clinic in the little African village her school was in. Saint Bette.

"That's fantastic, Bette. I should get you Leslie Thompkins' number. She runs the Wayne Foundation clinic here in Gotham but she's done some traveling. She could be a great resource," said Bruce, basically holding the dinner conversation together.

"That would be really helpful. As long as you don't mind sharing her! But Barbara, I want to know what you have been up to since our GA days. Are you still at Gotham State?"

Barbara set down her sadly drained wine glass, somewhat surprised to find the attention on her. She cleared her throat and said, "Yeah, I still go there."

"What are you studying?"

"I'm double majoring in math and computer science with a minor in criminology," she replied, picking at the remains of her salad plate with her fork.

"Wow, why am I not surprised," said Bette, laughing. "You always were a genius, Barb. I think you beat me in almost every class we had together."

"That's my Babs, we're all very proud of her," said Jim, patting her shoulder fondly.

"Well, I cheated a little. I do have an eidetic memory."

"Oh, yeah! I remember you saying that once. Say, have you spoken with Artemis Crock? The three of us all used to have so much fun together."

Out of the corner of her eye, Barbara saw Tim hide a smirk.

"Yeah, I talk to her still some times. She's still at Stanford though so I don't really see her often. I think she lives with her boyfriend."

"Wow, that's great. You know, when I first met her, I would have never had pegged her for the high school sweetheart type but the few times he visited, they always seemed really cute together," Bette commented.

It was a huge relief when Alfred finally cleared away the dessert plates and Dick announced they should be getting back to Bludhaven since they both had final exams tomorrow morning. "And I have some studying I didn't get to over the weekend," he added with a sheepish grin.

They made their way to the front hall, where once again, Bette insisted on hugging her goodbye, saying that they absolutely must get together for lunch or over coffee, just like old times. Barbara smiled and pretended to agree that it was a great idea. And then the couple was gone.

She stared at the front door they had left out of, very aware of three pairs of eyes on her back. With a sigh, she steeled herself to turn around and deal with the varying degrees of sympathy from the men.

"Oh, Honey …" her dad said gently.

"So that's why you threw me across the training room the other day. I don't blame you, but I still have a bruise," Tim said, absently patting at his pants pocket.

"I could arrest him," Jim offered.

"Yeah, and we'd let him sweat a few days before bailing him out," Tim added.

"Barbara …" Bruce trailed off, for once unsure what to say. His eyes were so gentle and sad. People forget that just because he's the cold and calculating Batman doesn't mean he doesn't care just as deeply as the rest of them.

The corners of her eyes started to prickle and she clenched one fist, trying to focus on holding off tears. Hadn't she done this to herself? Hadn't she made it clear that his dalliance with Bette Kane was indeed a deal breaker? She had avoided him all week, until last night when she had angrily told him he was stupid for even wanting to see the girl. Did she really expect him to just wait around for her to get over her own insecurities when there was a lovely girl who actually wanted to see him?

Also, was she really so transparent that all three of the men standing before her knew she was in love with Dick Grayson? Damn. Make that four. Alfred had just walked back into the room with a wrapped up package that he gently placed in her arms.

"Double chocolate chip cookies, Miss Barbara," the wizened butler said, grasping her shaking hands in a gesture of comfort.

"Thanks, Alfred," she said. It was well known that Alfred's cookies could cure anything, probably even cancer. Or a broken heart. She cleared her throat, glad the prickling had gone from her eyes. "Listen, Bette is a really sweet girl. She's smart, beautiful, and truly cares about doing the right thing. Dick really likes her. And she's good for him. He deserves someone like that," she said, staring at a point on the wall just over Bruce's shoulder.

No one said anything for a few minutes.

"That's total crap, Barbara," said Tim said flatly.

"Tim, don't," Bruce muttered.

"No, it's the truth. We should get going, Dad," she said shortly, turning to her father.

That night, she didn't finish all of the cookies but the container was significantly lightened before she finally went to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Barbara managed to get through her morning exams and her shift at the library with a smile on her face, despite the prospect of seeing Nightwing later on at the Cave.

When she arrived, she found him standing with Conner at the console but watching the entrance to the zeta platform, probably as soon as it had announced her code name. He looked like he was going to say something to her but soon other team members started arriving, catching his attention.

Barbara had trouble focusing on the mission debrief, instead carefully watching Dick as he led the presentation. Perhaps it was because he was such a natural performer, but she envied his ability to take charge and act like nothing was bothering him at all. And then, she suddenly wondered if maybe he wasn't bothered at all. Maybe he had no idea what she was feeling after the disaster that was family dinner last night.

"Alright, Superboy, Batgirl, and Robin, you'll be alpha squad. Wonder Girl and Blue Beetle, you're with me on beta. Recon only. Do not engage," Nightwing finished and Babs tuned back in.

"The usual rules that end up never actually applying, you mean," she managed to quip with a smirk.

"Yeah. Alright team, move out. Uh, Batgirl, can I have a word?" Nightwing nodded towards the edge of the room.

"Sure, boss," she said, following him to the corner of the room ignoring the furtive looks Robin and the others were shooting them. "What's up?" she asked in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Babs, listen, I'm sorry about dinner the other night. I honestly didn't realize you and your dad were going to be there too. I swear, I wasn't trying to hurt you," he said in a hushed voice. It was hard to tell if he was actually looking at her through the mask.

"It's fine, Nightwing, really. Sometimes, I focus so much on our old rivalry I forget that I actually was pretty good friends with Bette," she replied evenly. Her heart was constricting and her stomach was turning, but at least she wasn't tearing up. No, Barbara Gordon was not going to cry over a boy, especially not in front of said boy.

"I'm sorry about what I said the other night," he said.

"Me too. We both said hurtful things," she said honestly. "I … I hope you two are happy. She really is a great girl."

He stared at her for a few moments, as though trying to decide if she meant what she said.

"So, are we good?" he asked carefully.

"We're good," she confirmed.

Or at least, they would be, she thought as he gave her a quick smile and went off to join his team.

They were in the sphere cycle for almost twenty minutes before Connor finally turned to her and asked, "Who's Bette?"

Batgirl raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not nice to eavesdrop, even if you do have super hearing," she said.

Robin chimed in, "The new girl Dick is doing. He brought her to dinner last night. It was the most awkward mess I've ever witnessed."

"Doesn't he have a new girl every few weeks?" Conner asked.

"Yeah, but this Bette girl is like, Barbara's arch nemesis from high school," Tim answered while Barbara slid down in her seat.

"She's not my arch nemesis, Tim," she muttered. "We just competed in schoolwork a lot."

"Well, you won, didn't you? I mean, weren't you top of the class? Plus, you're like, triple majoring and she's just going to business school. I think you won," he pointed out. Conner looked over at her interestedly.

"I was valedictorian of our class. And obviously, being smarter didn't make much of a difference here," she elaborated. "Can we stop talking about this and focus on the mission?"

"I'm sorry, Barbara. I'm sure he'll come around," Conner said softly, returning his attention to piloting the sphere cycle. She suddenly felt an odd sort of kinship with the clone as she recalled that she was not the only one having romantic troubles with a fellow hero. He probably understood a little better than Tim thought he did.

* * *

It was around midnight on Thursday when Nightwing and Batgirl made it back to his small apartment in Bludhaven. They carefully stole through his bedroom window and she pulled the shades shut behind her after double checking they weren't seen.

When she turned around, he was already halfway out of his dirty uniform. Her eyes lingered on his muscular abdomen until he caught her looking with a raised eyebrow. She scowled and quickly busied herself with removing her cape and cowl.

"Thanks for your help with that case," he said. "You know you're welcome to stay tonight."

Things were still tenuous between them but when he had asked for her help earlier that night, she knew he was trying to make it better. He always was the first to try to fix things. It was annoying and endearing. But she met him half way and made her way to Bludhaven that evening. Just like old times. They had always worked well together, their movements completely in sync. If criminals had any sense of aesthetics, they would probably even marvel at the beauty of watching Batgirl and Nightwing fight together. Graceful gymnastics mixed with elegant, flighty acrobatics with their martial arts skills.

She sat on his bed and continued pulling off her boots. "You're welcome, and no thanks. I have to get home. I have my last finals tomorrow morning and I have to finish my code for computer science before I go to bed tonight anyway."

"You can use my computer," he offered, now pulling on sweat pants.

"I don't think so," she said, rolling her eyes.

He opened his mouth to respond but there was a loud, demanding knock on the front door of the apartment. They froze and stared at each other.

"Who the hell is visiting you after midnight?" she hissed, instantly regretting the question.

"I don't know! Stay in here!" he whispered back, hurrying out of the room and shutting the door behind him. There was a moment of his soft footsteps padding across the room then the door being unlatched.

"Hey, handsome. I didn't wake you did I?"

Barbara's eyes widened as she pressed her ear to the door.

No fucking way.

Was she really coming by for a booty call? Really?

"Maybe I should have called …"

"Bette, hey, come in," Dick answered.

_What the hell? Don't invite her in! I'm still in my Batgirl costume and Nightwing's is lying very obviously on the floor. _

"What are you doing out this late?"

"The girls and I were just having a drink to celebrate the end of finals and I missed you," she said earnestly.

"Really?"

"Mhmm…"

They stopped talking for several minutes after that.

Fuck. There was no way she was going sit there and wait for Bette to either discover Batgirl in his bedroom or pass out on Dick's couch from too much thirsty Thursday celebrating. Barbara looked back at the window she had come in through. She should just put her cape and cowl back on and make her way back to Gotham in costume, instead of zeta-ing back in her civies. That was probably what he was expecting her to do anyway, even though her suit was a mess after landing in a puddle of mud.

Silently, she resumed her spot on his bed and started pulling her boots on again, hearing Bette giggling and Dick speaking again. It sounded like he was offering her a cup of coffee.

Looking around for her cape and cowl, she suddenly caught sight of his dark blue bathrobe hanging off a hook on his door. And a really, really terrible idea formed in her mind.

_I'm probably going to hell just for thinking of it_, she decided, standing up and gliding over to the robe. Outside, Bette was saying something and laughing again. _Or at least coal in my stocking_.

She shook her head. Her and Dick were finally starting to get back to a good place again. The cookies had helped with the absolute despair of a broken heart. And she kept telling herself that Bette was a nice girl and Dick deserved a nice girl, not a cold fish with a mean roundhouse.

A voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Artemis was egging her on though. There was a good chance that Bette was too tipsy to even remember whatever happened tonight. She hoped the girl had taken a cab over here.

"Bad idea, Barbara," she muttered to herself.

Barbara threw caution to the wind, resigned herself to the fact that she was a terrible person, and quickly started peeling her boots and uniform off. She took both costumes and shoved them out of sight, hers in the backpack she had left earlier and his on the floor of his closet. If he wanted it not to wrinkle, he could hang up his own damn suit.

Stripped down to her underclothes, she pulled the robe around herself, pausing to inhale his scent. She almost lost her nerve as her senses teased her mind with the idea of being this close to him. And then she glanced back at his bed and thought of the woman out there who was intimately acquainted with the location and she wrapped the robe around her body, securing it tight.

The cowl always messed up her hair so she ran a hand through it to achieve the perfect amount of disarray. Then she opened the door and stepped out.

"Hey, Dick, who was at the – oh, hey Bette," she said lightly, leaning against the doorjamb.

They were standing at the counter, well Bette was more or less leaning against it as she perched on the stool. Dick stared at her, slightly horrified.

"Barbara? Is that you? That's an odd dress," Bette said, eyes wide as she tried to focus.

"Yeah, Babs, odd dress," said Dick with his teeth gritted. _What the hell?_ He mouthed at her.

She shrugged.

"Wait …" said Bette slowly, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Maybe I should go if you already have company …"

"You feeling okay, Bette? Dick, you should call her cab. Do you have any cash? She really shouldn't be out on her own," Barbara continued, taking a few steps into the room.

"I guess I'm a little woozy," Bette frowned.

"I'll call you a cab, Bette," said Dick kindly to her before stalking over to Barbara with a good imitation of the Bat-glare directed her way as he went in his room to grab his phone and money.

Ten minutes later, while Dick accompanied Bette back downstairs and gave the cab driver several large bills to get her home safely, Barbara changed into her civilian clothes and made sure her costume was packed completely. She was just pulling on her coat when he returned to the apartment.

"What was that all about?!" he demanded.

"You weren't doing a very good job so I intervened," she said simply, zipping her jacket and folding her arms.

"Did you have to wear my robe?"

"If it bothers you, I'll pay to have it dry cleaned."

"That's not the point, Babs! I thought you were just going to leave, not prance around like you've been in my bedroom all night!"

"Did you want her to walk into your room and trip over an escrima stick or spare bird-a-rang or your very obvious costume you left on the floor?"

"I suppose it would have been too out of your way to stuff it in the closet or something?" Dick said sarcastically.

"Are you kidding me? Did you not see how drunk she was? What were you thinking?" she snapped, knowing that was a really low accusation.

"How can you say that? That was really cruel, Barbara."

She glared but said nothing in reply, not wanting to admit that she knew he was right, trying to ignore the creeping guilt at her juvenile, impulsive actions.

"Well, since you seem to think you're so smart, what am I supposed to tell her tomorrow?" he asked, still returning the glare but no longer shouting. The malice in his voice, the emphasis on the word 'smart', was still just as hurtful though.

Tossing her hair, she said loftily, "I don't care. Tell her I spilled something." With that, she threw open the front door and strode out. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_, she told herself as she made her way down the street towards the zeta tube. Her eyes started to water as the computerized voice announced her code name and zipped her away back to Gotham.


	3. Part Three

**A/N:** This part got really long.

So, the case is a little handwavy since the details aren't exactly the point of the story. Also, don't worry, this is not the last we've seen of Bette. And Tim keeps getting really talkative.

Thank you again for all the favorites and reviews. I'm shocked so many seem to like this! :D

**Part Three**

That weekend was the Christmas party.

Barbara sighed as she stared at her reflection, twirling slightly to watch the hem of the dress float around her legs. She had bought it a while ago on a black Friday sale adventure. Normally she didn't bother spending so much but the silky frock had caught her eye.

It was the exact shade of blue of the Nightwing symbol. Now, she was wishing for something else to wear.

She turned, sucking in the small bit of gut her imagination said she had, and started to regret eating so many of those cookies Alfred had sent her home with last weekend. They had surprisingly lasted almost the whole week, the package was so full.

"Knock, knock," her dad said, gently pushing open her door.

"Hey, Dad, come in," she said, picking up a hairbrush and smoothing out her bright red hair.

"You know, sweetie, we don't have to go to this thing," he offered. He had been practically walking on eggshells around her all week and while the intention was sweet, she was getting tired of being treated like some pathetic thirteen-year-old with a first crush.

"No, Dad, it will be fine. It's Tim's first time at one of these things and I promised I'd be there to help him through it," she said with a small smile.

"I was hoping you'd change your mind so I wouldn't have to go. I hate wearing these monkey suits, you know," he said, gesturing to the only tuxedo he owned. The old suit was in good enough condition but had definitely seen its fair share of fancy parties and dry-cleaning chemicals.

"You look very sharp, Daddy," Barbara said, hooking in some earrings and slipping on her shoes. "Well?"

"You clean up nicely too, kiddo. Let's go."

Jazzy Christmas music played in the background of the undercurrent of voices laughing and talking and glasses clinking as socialites made their way around the ballroom at Wayne manor. Barbara quickly scanned the room and her eyes seemed to automatically hone in on a handsome, dark haired figure with the tall blonde on his arm.

Dick always looked good in formal wear and Bette's black dress, likely designer, also looked amazing. They were a beautiful, classy couple. And it seemed her little stunt with the robe had not affected them as Bette was animatedly talking while Dick looked on with a grin.

"Jim. Barbara. I'm glad you made it," said a cheerful voice behind her. Bruce was in full billionaire party mode, champagne glass in one hand as he shook hands with the commissioner. "You look radiant, Barb," he added to her.

"Hi, Bruce, thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from Dick and Bette. A waiter walked by with a few glasses of bubbly and she helped herself to one, silently daring her father, the cop, to comment. He didn't. "Where's Tim? He didn't chicken out, did he?" she asked.

"I saw him hiding in a corner earlier, somewhere over there," he said, motioning with his hand.

"Uh oh, I think I see the mayor coming in," Jim said, frowning. "Time for a snack. Point me in the direction of the hors d'oeuvres, Bruce?"

The two of them disappeared leaving Barbara to toss back her champagne and fight her way through the crowd to look for Tim. On her way, she managed to snag another full flute.

The skinny teenager was standing awkwardly off to the side, eyeing the crowd warily. He hadn't seen her yet; the opportunity was too good to pass up.

"Hey, you know you're standing under mistletoe, right?" she said in his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He jumped and whirled around to see her crack up laughing. "I'm sorry, Tim. It was just too easy," she explained as he ran a hand through his short hair, blushing, and trying to regain some semblance of dignity after his overreaction.

"That was not nice, Barb. I'm already on edge with these socialite women cooing over the new Wayne kid," he grumbled, folding his arms and leaning against the wall again.

"Is that what you're doing, pouting here in the corner?" she teased.

He shook his head. "Surveillance," he said, eyes flickering over her shoulder. She casually followed his gaze and saw that the 'it' couple of the evening had moved on to a new group to entertain. "Is the robe thing Dick told me about true?" he asked in a low voice.

"He told you? Yeah, not one of my best moments," she said, hiding behind her glass.

"He was pissed. Said you were being unreasonable and jealous," Tim continued lightly.

"And what do you think?"

"I think it was brilliant. But I'm an immature fifteen year old, so what do I know?"

Barb chuckled. "You're a good kid, Tim. But I don't want you to fight with Dick over my issues. He thinks of you as a little brother. And I was being really petty."

"You're part of this family too, Babs," Tim said quietly.

She was quiet, moved by his insistence, or maybe the now empty flute in her hand.

"They don't even have a good celebrity couple name," he said suddenly.

"A what?"

"A celebrity couple name, like mix of their names," Tim continued thoughtfully.

Barbara agreed, wrinkling her nose. She idly wondered if he had learned the habit of playing around with words from another Robin.

"You and Dick have a good couple name though …"

"Tim," she began warningly.

"Dibs."

"I'm sorry, Tim. Dibs isn't happening. I keep pissing off Dick."

"What was that?" Bruce suddenly appeared at their side.

"Barbara and Dick's celebrity couple name," Tim answered quickly before she could even think to change the subject.

Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment then said, "Dibs?"

"Yeah, isn't it great?"

"Guys, listen to me. Dick is happy with Bette. And I'm sure he would appreciate your support. She's a lovely girl, really. And I'm fine. Honestly. He can sleep with whoever he wants. I have no right to judge. And she really is good for him. He deserves someone nice like her," Barbara said, not daring to glance in their direction. "Excuse me."

Bruce and Tim did not follow her as she made her way to the food table, in search of a shrimp cocktail or some other fancy finger food to soak up the sparkling wine bubbling around in her stomach. The last thing she needed was to get physically ill.

Barbara paused a few feet away from the buffet line when she realized who was standing on the other side, putting things on a plate and grabbing two more champagne flutes. Dick must have felt her gaze because he suddenly glanced up and made eye contact with her. His expression was neutral. He was obviously still mad at her. Perhaps he had thought she wouldn't dare show up. She wanted very much to tell him where exactly he could stick his damn opinions on what parties she was allowed to attend.

He moved away from the table without a word and she stepped towards it. She had just started gnawing on a giant chocolate covered strawberry when the lights flickered, then went out completely.

The crowd gasped then collectively went quiet. A piercing scream echoed across the hall, then the shattering of glass as the tall windows were broken, admitting several darkly dressed figures.

Abandoning her fruit, Barbara attempted to push through the crowd as more people screamed and pushed back. Bullets emptied into the wall and ceiling, causing even more panic as the party surged away from the scene, some taking to hiding under tables and crouching on the floor. Finally, she broke through the line.

There were several, probably at least six darkly dressed people, wearing tactical gear and holding large guns. One of the larger men was holding up something, no someone! He shifted; moonlight streaming in, unhindered from the broken windows, illuminated blonde curls.

_Bette!_

The young woman was obviously unconscious. Barbara could see a small line of blood trailing from under her hair. And somehow, she had lost one of her tall stiletto pumps in the struggle. Glancing to her left, she could see Dick a few feet away, a dismayed look on his face and his fists clenched at his sides.

The man in front who had obviously unloaded the warning shots before waved his rifle around again and shouted, "No one follows! We're just here for the Kane girl. No one has to get hurt tonight! Anyone makes a move we will shoot without remorse!"

Behind him, the other members had started backing up towards the large broken windows. Outside, a rumble of an engine betrayed their getaway car. It sounded like they had stolen one of Bruce's cars too.

When the man carrying Bette started moving too, Barbara unwittingly took a step forward, drawing the leader's attention instantly.

"Nuh uh, Sweetheart," he said, pointing the barrel at her.

"You won't get away with this!" Barbara shouted, glaring.

He shrugged as the rest of his team made their way out. "Enjoy your night, folks. Merry Christmas!" With that, he emptied several more rounds into the air above the crowd's head and hopped out the window.

The next few minutes were somewhat of a blur as people attempted to recover from the unexpected interruption. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bruce and her father take charge, trying to calm the guests so the police who were on the way could take statements. Both Dick and Tim seemed to arrive at her side at the exact same moment.

"Bruce wants you and me downstairs," Tim muttered, looking at Barbara.

"Let's go," Dick growled.

"No, you have to stay up here," Tim insisted.

"What? The hell I do," the older bird demanded.

"B's orders."

"Fuck B's orders."

"No, Tim and Bruce are right. You need to stay here. You were her date. You can't just disappear," Barbara said shortly, cutting off the argument.

Dick glared at her.

"I'm serious. Help my dad take statements. Play up the grieving boyfriend so people will talk to you. Besides, we already have a lead."

"What lead?"

"They're hired. He basically told me so himself," said Barbara, grabbing Tim's arm and leading him through the maze of tables before Dick could respond. In the chaos, no one noticed the two slip out of the ballroom.

It was almost three hours later that the guests had left and Bruce and Dick stomped into the Batcave.

"What have you found?" Bruce began.

"We don't need to waste any more time, Bruce. We have to go after her! We know they drove off in your car. You have GPS on all of them. Let's suit up and go before it's too late," Dick demanded.

"They ditched the car about a thousand yards down the road, right at the turn off to the main high way," Tim said, pointing to one of the computer screens. "Going after the car would be a waste of time."

Dick scowled, not impressed with Tim's logic.

"We should have left earlier."

"Settle down, Dick. How did they get past the extra security I had Alfred hire for this event?" Bruce asked, putting up a hand to silence him.

"It's not Alfred's fault," Barbara said, raising an eyebrow. "All of the guards he had hired for the evening passed extensive background checks, had no priors or shady connections. The problem is, one of them called in sick this afternoon and the company failed to alert Alfred and instead sent a substitute. This man here."

She pulled up a mug shot on the computer screen. "Seth Ackerman was working the gate and front entrance tonight. He has a few felony charges but was never convicted. Mostly in armed robbery but it's also been suspected he has connections in black market DVDs sales. Whoever he knows, they managed to keep him out of jail. I don't know who the hell let him work security," she continued, frowning.

"It's consistent. One of the guards was unaccounted for upstairs. No one seemed to know where he went. He must have escaped with the mercenaries. Any word on them?" Bruce asked.

"We believe it's this group here. Red Dragon Training group," said Tim, taking over the console. "Batman has dealt with them before, according to the case files. They have a front as a martial arts studio but run a smooth operation of professionals for hire."

"According to your files on them, they either have a remarkable ability to resist Batman beating the shit out of them or they don't have details on their assignments. That's what makes them so successful. They don't ask questions. They don't snitch. They don't hold on to evidence," Barbara said.

"I remember running into them once as Robin. The mob employs them a lot, keeps them out of jail," Dick said. His eyes still looked dark and angry but he seemed to be willing to listen to their research so far. "Why were they hired to kidnap Bette?"

"No idea. But it's likely that they have already dropped her off, received payment, and left. I doubt they would be a useful lead at this point," Barbara replied.

"I'll make them talk. We can at least find out where they took her," Dick growled, turning to stalk over to the costume vault.

"Hold on, Dick. That's not our only lead," Bruce said, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Bruce, I'm not going to sit around and wait until a ransom note shows up. I need to get out there and find out where they took her!"

"We will," said Bruce, almost looking like he was humoring the younger man if not for seriousness of his expression. "Barbara and Tim will stay here. Follow up on Ackerman. See if there's a connection to George Kane or Kane Industries," he instructed.

"What?" all three Batkids said at once.

Bruce stepped forward and pulled up a file on the screen.

"You think Bette's father is involved?" Dick asked in a strangled sort of voice. "Where the hell did that even come from?"

"Since your liaison with his daughter, who is heiress to Kane Industries, I have been doing some light background research. Some things did not fit, especially with her charity foundation story," he answered, not bothering to even glance at Dick. "We need to look at every possible angle. Find out what her father is involved in."

Barbara looked over at Dick. It was like watching his heart break across his face as they both made the same logical conclusion: Bette's kidnap might be a ruse, one that she was in on too.

"Do you always check up on the women I'm seeing?" Dick said angrily.

"Only the high profile ones. Go suit up," Bruce said, not appearing even the slightest bit concerned with his anger.

When he hesitated, Barbara caught his eye. It was always easy to dismiss his playboy actions but in moments like these, she was reminded of big his heart was, how Dick always genuinely cared deeply about those he was close to. She said, "Go, Dick. I'll stay here and see what I can find. We'll get her back." It wasn't exactly the apology she owed him.

It was a very long night. The tension was rolling off Batman and Nightwing in waves as they climbed out of the Batmobile and made their way to the computer. Barbara had long since dismissed Tim from research duties when he started snoring in his chair and sat there alone, rubbing at her sore temples. She was still in her formal dress which was now inelegantly wrinkled and had cookie crumbs stuck in places.

"Well? What did you find? And where's Tim?" asked Nightwing harshly.

"He went to bed," Barbara replied coolly, not intimidated by his tone. "And I have combed over George Kane's financial records and compiled a list of Ackerman's known associates dating back to the nineties."

"Give me the list. I'll start looking for them," said Nightwing, raising his small wrist computer in anticipation of the download. There was dried blood on the knuckles of his gloves.

"Dick, it's almost five. There's nothing more you can do tonight except get some sleep. We'll start parsing this down tomorrow and look for connections then," Barbara said, wearily getting to her feet, picking up her shoes.

Dick looked like he wanted to argue with her.

"She's right. Go upstairs, Dick," Bruce said sharply, lowering the cowl and studying the computer screen.

They waited a few moments until he had changed and went upstairs before Barbara asked, "Did you find anything out?"

"The Dragons eventually told us the drop site. Bette and whoever collected her were long gone by then. We continued to look to witnesses but no one was coming forward to help. We could not locate Ackerman either."

Barbara sighed, her head pounding. "Damn. Bruce, I think you were right about the connection to her father. Or at least to Kane Industries. But that doesn't mean Bette is involved too. I just can't imagine it …"

"Me either but we can't exclude the theory. You should go upstairs and get some rest too, Barbara. I'm sure Alfred has your usual room made up," he said, glancing at her.

"My dad …"

"Knows you are staying here and are safe," Bruce finished kindly, heading towards the costume vault.

"Thanks. Night, boss."

* * *

The ransom note came the next day. They gathered around the TV screen that afternoon as a tearful George Kane held a press conference, pleading for anyone who knew the whereabouts of his daughter to come forward.

"Well?"

"He looks genuine," Barbara commented, speaking to her father on the phone.

"Got a few leads on the kidnappers that led us to the Red Dragons," he said. "Uniforms said they looked a little worse for wear this morning."

"They may have gotten a visit from Batman and Nightwing," Barbara confirmed, standing off to the side as the three men worked.

"That's what I figured. Ransom is asking for ten million."

"Why doesn't he just pay it?" she asked.

"Company has a proof of life policy. The ransom came in an untraceable email. No pictures or video. Just text," Jim explained.

"That's what we thought," Barb sighed. Her headache from the previous evening had not gone away.

"I have to go now. Be careful, Sweetie."

"You too, Dad."

She hung up and rejoined the discussion.

"So now you're telling me all of that money didn't go to a school in Africa at all? That it was stolen and invested in trading pirated movies?" Dick asked, arms folded and an eyebrow raised in consternation.

"Yes. George Kane's chief executive assistant has some possible connections to various black market dealings, including a suspected previous partnership with Ackerman. They are somewhat distant and have been kept quiet but it is a solid lead," Bruce explained, seated at the super computer, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"This is Gotham. Half the city has distant connections to various crime bosses," Dick said flatly. "It's like six degrees of Carmine Falcone!"

"The money went somewhere, Dick. We managed to find his offshore account in the Cayman Islands but not all of it is there," said Barbara.

"Why do you even care?" Dick asked her carelessly.

"It's my job! I don't want to see her hurt either!"

"It really hasn't appeared that way, lately."

Barbara opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted.

"Enough!" The cowl was down but there was no mistaking that it was Batman speaking. "I will take both of you off this case," he threatened.

They fell quiet for the moment.

"This is ridiculous. Bette showed me a picture of her dad visiting the school. It's adorable. There's tons of little kids around him," Dick pointed out.

"Yeah, it's the publicity shot on the webpage for the foundation, see?" she said, moving to Bruce's side to pull up the site on another screen. "I analyzed it. Dick, it's photo-shopped."

"What?"

"Whoever did it, did a really good job. It's nearly perfect. Even down to the phony file trajectory. But there's a tiny square of pixels in the corner that don't match the rest. I studied it for an hour, trying to think of any reason why that small bit of code would be off but the obvious answer is that it's a composited image," she went on.

"Bruce?" he asked, hoping for a better second opinion. She felt slightly offended.

"Barbara is right. The picture isn't real. The money made it to the so called charity program they were using and the organization claims they spent it on building the school, but most of it eventually starting pouring into his accounts," Bruce continued. "He put his daughter in charge to keep a close eye on the project."

"All of this for pirated DVDs?"

"We think that's just where it started," she said uneasily. "It's not an uncommon scheme. Blackmail a rich corporate executive to invest in your shady dealings, promise return as long as you do what they ask. There's also drug, arms, and antiquity smuggling. Then Tim hacked his personal email."

The addresses were mostly scrambled and untraceable but the contents of the latest message were chilling enough:

_Lose your nerve again and you know the consequences. Several of my buyers have preferences for blondes. -A_

"They threatened to kidnap her …" he said in a hushed voice.

"And sell her. It looks like when he realized his money was also being invested in human trafficking, he tried to back out," Bruce said calmly.

"What if she's already out of the country, Bruce? We'll never get her back!"

"They asked for a ransom. They would rather give Bette back and keep their financial backer happy than pass her off, even for a good price," he answered, going into detective mode. "What did Jim say?"

"They're working on the ransom note but it was untraceable. Apparently, he also deleted all of the emails we found this morning so they have no idea about these threats. We've done all the research we can. We need to get out there and find where ever they are holding her," Barbara said decisively.

* * *

They went out as soon as it was dark enough, which given the time of year was earlier than usual for the Bats. It took hours of searching, interrogating, and then searching some more until they came upon an old factory belonging to Kane Industries. When the economy started going south, like many other companies, Kane had shut down several factories and laid off the workers to cut costs. There was a fence around the large complex as well as security cameras to ward off trespassers from the supposedly deserted building.

"Really? He let them use his own building?" Robin whispered as they observed several armed guards patrolling the entrances to the main building.

"It really got out of his hands. Batman, this one looks like a possibility," Batgirl added, touching the communicator in her cowl.

"Move in. I'm answering the signal," he replied in their ears.

"Okay, Robin, you take the west entrance. Batgirl, go around and take the dock entrance. I'll go in from above," Nightwing decided. She could tell he desperately wanted to be the one to find and rescue Bette; she really couldn't blame him.

Batgirl took off, making her way quickly around the outside fence towards the river side of the factory where she found a place to slip inside. She took out one guard and he thankfully went down and out without a sound. Sticking to the shadows, she was able to take another by surprise. She secured both men with zip ties and kicked away their weapons before moving on.

The large bay door was open about a foot from the ground. Crouching in the shadow of the flickering light, she pulled a small, flexible camera lens attached to wire and a miniature console. Carefully, she pointed the end under the door to survey the room. The camera had night vision and after a few minutes of scanning, she decided it was safe to crawl under.

"I'm in the building," she murmured in her communicator.

"Copy," both boys whispered back.

There was no sign of life so far. A fine film of dust and the beginnings of cobwebs covered the imposing manufacturing equipment and shipping crates around the room. Silently, she made her way through the different factory parts and to the offices.

One of the doors had obviously been modified with some very sloppily installed extra locks that appeared to be designed to lock from the outside, not the inside. There was a small, rectangular window on one side of the door. Batgirl cautiously stepped up and tried to peer inside but the room was dark. She squinted, then remembered the lenses on her cowl had infrared and night vision settings. Infrared told her there was someone crouched inside the old office and the night vision confirmed it.

"I've found her," Batgirl said softly into her comm link. She started working on picking the locks and after a few frustrating minutes, pushed the door open.

The room was mostly void of furniture save for a large desk with an empty plate and water bottle sitting on it. There wasn't even a window or a working light switch.

The girl didn't look great but she was alive and whole and just barely conscious. Her wrists and ankles were shackled and she huddled into a corner to conserve body heat that the concrete floor was obviously stealing. She was still in her long, black evening dress but it was dirty and torn in several places. Her hair was tangled and there was a dark line of dried blood on her temple.

Batgirl slowly edged into the room and spoke gently, hoping not to spook her into making a loud noise that would alert someone to her location. "Bette? Are you okay?"

Startled, the young woman looked up, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. "Batgirl?"

"Don't worry, I'm going to get you out of here," said Batgirl, kneeling and starting to pick the locks on her wrists.

"They wouldn't say why … I just want to go home …" she moaned.

"I know. It's going to be okay. Can you stand?" she asked, easily unlocking her ankles and straightening up. She pulled Bette to her feet, pulling her arm around her shoulders to try to keep her steady. Bette had always been a little taller than her but she was also stick thin. As long as she didn't run into too much trouble on the way out, she should be able to get them to safety. "Come on."

"No, wait, there's others, down the hall," she whispered, leaning heavily on her and swaying.

"Others?" Batgirl said sharply, glancing down the hallway from the room she had found Bette in.

The girl nodded, whimpering slightly. "I saw them, in shackles like mine. Young women, some kids. I think they were going to …"

"I know. Nightwing? Robin? There are other prisoners. Near the back offices," she said, holding a hand to her ear.

"Copy that, Batgirl. On our way in," Robin answered.

They continued down the hallway. She didn't think Bette would be able to crawl under the door so she hoped to find a different exit. They rounded a corner to find two thugs. Luckily she ducked back before they turned and saw her.

Batgirl helped lean Bette against the wall and quietly instructed her to stay put. Then she rounded the corner to sneak up on the two guards.

One turned and charged when he saw her. She smirked, itching for a good fight. Using his momentum, she grabbed one of his outstretched arms, sidestepping while aiming a solid kick to his gut that he practically dived into. The other was right on her as well and tried to make a grab at her. She evaded, threw a punch, twisted his arm, trip, throw. He ran into a wall. The first was just managing to get up by then so she turned an aimed another kick to his head. Both were knocked out.

"Wow," Bette whispered behind her, holding on to the wall as she watched around the corner.

"Let's go before anyone notices," Batgirl instructed, not allowing any time to gloat over the takedown. She grabbed the unsteady girl again and they hurried down the hall, making it to the door that led outside. It flung open and Robin stepped in, followed by Nightwing.

"Guards outside are all down and ambulance is on its way," Robin reported.

"Down the hall, take a right. That's where they were keeping the other girls," Batgirl instructed.

Robin took off but Nightwing hesitated, glancing at the blonde leaning on her shoulder.

"Go, Nightwing! I have her!" Batgirl prompted. They made eye contact and he nodded grimly, taking off after Robin. "Come on, Bette."

Outside, she found a pile of lumber to sit the shaking girl down on until help arrived.

"Miss Kane, are you hurt at all?" Batgirl asked calmly.

"I think my ankle is sprained …" she said, staring oddly at the hero.

Batgirl knelt down, carefully examining the swollen, shoeless foot she pointed to.

"Barbara?" she whispered, hesitantly.

Batgirl froze, then looked up sharply. "Your foot should be fine. Did they hurt you at all?" she continued, decided to ignore her speculation.

"Oh my God, it is you … Barbara Gordon. I'd know that hair anywhere and the way you move …"

"I think you have me confused with someone else," she said gently.

"No, it's you. You're Batgirl," Bette continued in a hushed tone of awe.

Barbara stared at her, trying to think of a good way to refute her claim.

"And Dick, he's Nightwing, isn't he?" she guessed. "The mask hardly hides anything up close."

"Bette, did you hit your head? Did they feed you?" she deflected.

"And if he's Nightwing, that Tim kid must be Robin and Bruce Wayne is …" she trailed off, her eyes widening at the continuing train of thought.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't spill all of our identities in one night," Barbara snapped, staring hard at her.

"I'm actually not very surprised. You always were ridiculously good at everything." There was a hint of bitterness in her tone. "Of course you're a superhero too."

They could hear sirens in the distance. Behind them, the door to the building opened and Nightwing and Robin appeared, helping out several young women and children. One small child seemed to have taken to the Boy Wonder as she refused to let Tim set her down. He shrugged at Nightwing who went back in to get the rest.

"How horrible am I? I move in on your man and you still are good enough to me to save my life," Bette said in a low voice, putting her face in her hands. Babs heard a light sniffle.

"He's not my man. And saving people is kind of our thing."

The sirens were getting louder and Gotham PD showed up with ambulance in tow. The EMT's jumped out and headed for the hostages Robin and Nightwing had freed as the door opened again and more exited the building. The police officers made their way to Nightwing.

"That's all of the hostages we could find in the building," he said.

"Good. Gordon said he's with your boss right now," said Renee Montoya, waving her cell phone absently.

Nightwing nodded. "They should be gathering up Kane right now. And Batman has all the evidence prepared. Too bad we didn't find Ackerman"

Next to her, Bette gave another sniffle, and then her shoulders shook with sobs. Hesitantly, Barbara put an arm around her in an attempt to comfort her.

"They said it was Daddy's fault, t-t-that they were going to use me to teach him a lesson. I d-d-didn't believe them," she cried into Barbara's shoulder. "Was he really involved in this?"

"Yes. I'm sorry Bette. Batman is helping arrest him right now. He's likely going to jail for a long time."

Bette cried even harder. One of the EMTs made their way over with a blanket which Barbara took and draped over the woman's shoulders before waving him off for now.

Nightwing talked with the police, but kept glancing at them anxiously. The six year old was still attached to Robin's arm but had allowed herself to be examined by a paramedic. And still, Barbara tried to comfort Bette, once again putting aside all of her unfair feelings of animosity for the girl.

"Babs, what am I going to do now?" she cried.

Barbara took a deep breath. "Well, you're probably going to get your dad's share of the company."

"I can't … I don't know … You always know what to do … help me, please …"

It was incredibly disconcerting to see Bette not look confident about something.

"Bette . . . This is what you are going to do. First, you're going to pull yourself together. You are not a helpless damsel in distress. I can see all the bruises on your arms. You fought back. You told me where the other kids were so we could save them too. You did good. Next, you're going to take your dad's place and put that business degree you're working on into use. You are smart. You can do it," she said emphatically. And as Bette hiccoughed and looked up at her, she almost looked like she believed it too. "Now come on, let's get you to the ambulance so the paramedics can look you over."

She finally managed to relieve herself of Bette babysitting once she was sitting in the ambulance, being looked over by a paramedic, and walked over to Nightwing who had finished up with the officers.

"It seems someone has a new number one fan," Barbara commented as her and Dick watched Tim gently pry the small hand off his glove.

"Robin, wait! Will you come visit me? Please? You're my favorite!"

"Um, sure, Nell. Just, do me a favor and try to stay out of trouble, please?" Tim said awkwardly. The little girl nodded enthusiastically.

"That's adorable," Dick muttered. "Listen, Babs, you were incredible tonight. I know I've been difficult, but you still really came through for me. You always do."

She shook her head. "I've been way more difficult. I'm sorry about the other night. That was incredibly callous and immature of me," she said, not looking at him.

"I doubt it's going to last much longer anyway."

"You'd break up with her over this?"

"No, but she might."


	4. Part Four

A/N: Goodness. Thank you again for the reviews and follows and favorites.

We're nearing the end. Things should be a little more happy from here on out.

Also, has been doing this weird thing where I go back and edit like one letter typo and when I save, the word count jumps up by twenty. So, if something is repeating, I apologize.

**Part Four**

The knock on his door jolted him out of his thoughts and he quickly exited out of most of the sensitive case notes he was reading on his laptop before closing it. The plan he was in the middle of working on was not something he could risk just lying around. He instead piled around some books and papers to make it look like schoolwork was keeping him up tonight. Homework during winter break. No one could possibly question that.

Dick stood and stretched before making his way to the door of his apartment, having some idea of who he would find on the other side. His guess was indeed correct as a weary looking Bette Kane stood on his doorstep.

"Hey, come in," he invited.

"Thanks, I wasn't sure you would be home," she said idly, wandering into his living room. "No jealous exes hiding in your bedroom this time?" she tossed out with a nervous laugh.

"No, and I never dated Babs, you know."

"I know." She paused and turned around to look at him.

"Why don't you sit down," he suggested. "Would you like some coffee?"

Bette nodded and perched on the couch while he rummaged around the kitchen, stealing glances at her. She was dressed nicely, like she had just come from the office. He knew she spent the past several days since the kidnapping trying to put things back together. It amazed him, the tenacity she showed.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you and your father," he said gently, setting a mug on the table in front of her and resuming his own seat.

"Thanks. He's on bail at the moment but his lawyer is going to try for a plea bargain. If he agrees to plead guilty to everything else and help give up all of his contacts, they won't add the human trafficking to his charges. Which would significantly reduce his sentence," she explained, biting her lip.

"That's good to hear."

"And I meant to call but I've been so busy just trying to straighten everything out. I think we've finally managed to put a stop to all the money transfers and patch up all the leaks. But the board's confidence is shaken. Even though there's proof I wasn't a part of the scheme, I don't think they trust me yet." Once she started, it was like she had no one else to unload all her anxiety upon in the past few days.

"Bette …"

"But I'm doing the best I can. I've been watching my dad run the business and I know what I'm doing, even if I am young." She finally looked him squarely in the eye. "Barbara really gave me a good pep talk after you guys rescued me. That woman's a real force of nature. This whole week, I've been trying to think 'what would Barbara Gordon do' and then do it."

Dick stared. "After what?" he managed to squeak out.

"She didn't tell you I recognized her? And you once I saw you up close. It's easy enough to mistake the voice and the hair but the way she moves is purely like the gymnast she was back in high school," Bette explained with a wry smile. "Batgirl is every bit as graceful as Barbara Gordon."

"Right. Listen, Bette, we don't normally tell people –"

"I know. I will never give up your identities. I promise," she interrupted.

He believed her. "So, what inspiring piece of advice did my ginger partner in crime fighting see fit to give?" he asked with a smirk.

"Mostly she told me to get my shit together."

"I'm not surprised in the least."

"Yeah. God, I was always so jealous of her in school," she said with a sigh.

"Why?" Dick asked carefully.

"Why? Because she was the best at practically everything! She was smart and athletic and pretty. Even in middle school when she was the redhead with braces and glasses, she just rocked it and didn't even seem to care. And she was gorgeous when we got to high school. I don't know how she didn't notice it but guys were always talking about her. And it wasn't just her looks either. She just commanded so much respect from people, all on her own merit. I don't think I ever heard her flaunt around the fact that her dad was the police commissioner. She held people to high standards and stood up to bullies. And if you were lucky enough to be her friend, you knew she would take care of you. I just wish I had half of her strength," she finished, now slouching in her seat and staring at the ceiling.

Dick just shook his head, at least relieved that she hadn't mentioned being jealous of his friendship with Babs. "The two of you are ridiculous. You have no idea how much you really have in common," he said, shaking his head.

"Trust me, not much. And now she's Batgirl too!"

"She's actually been Batgirl since your junior year," he corrected.

"Ughh. So, you guys were close even before all the hero stuff?"

"Yeah. Barbara was one of the first people my age that I met here in Gotham," he said, smiling sadly at the memory. "I'm sure you've heard some version of the story of what happened to my parents. Basically, I was nine years old and had just seen my entire family murdered …"

_Nine year old Dick Grayson sat huddled on the hard wooden bench in the hallway at the police station. Small, shaking hands grasped the large coat that had been placed over him, pulling it tighter, hoping to just disappear. _

_"Hello?" a curious voice interrupted his attempts at invisibility. He looked up at its owner, a young girl probably about his age with bright blue eyes behind thin glasses and startling reddish hair drawn into two braids. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly. _

_He shrugged noncommittally. Would he ever be okay? It was a stupid question but people kept asking him all night. _

_She looked between him and the door he was sitting next to and something seemed to click. "I'm sorry. Something happened didn't it?" she said softly, taking a seat on the bench next to him. He resisted the urge to shy away. _

_He nodded. "My parents …" was all he managed to say before he forced himself to look away to hide the tears filling his eyes again. All he could see was the blurry images of his family, broken and bloody on the floor of the circus tent. _

_"My dad is a detective. The best. He even works with Batman," she said proudly. "If he's on the case, he'll find who hurt them," she added confidently._

_He nodded again and she fell silent for a few minutes. _

_"I'm Barbara Gordon. What's your name?"_

_He tried clearing his throat and in a watery voice, "Dick Grayson."_

_Six weeks later, he was put in a stuffy uniform and taken to his first day of school at Gotham Academy, where the same Barbara Gordon instantly recognized him. _

"…At first we didn't have many classes together but as we got older, we spent more time together. She was so mad when she figured out I was Robin," he added with a small chuckle.

"Wow," she said softly. "You're right, everyone knows the story, but it's so different actually hearing you talk about it."

He could see the slight jealousy and insecurity in her gaze when he finished his narrative and felt his stomach clench. He hadn't meant to add to her concerns about Babs.

"Bette, I'm really happy to see you. But I think it's time we stopped talking about people who aren't in the room," he said, leaning towards her and placing a palm to her cheek.

"I guess you have a point."

They were kissing fiercely for several moments before he pulled away to ask, "Will you stay? Tonight?"

"Yes," she answered, pulling him back in.

Quite a bit later, when higher level brain functioning began to return, remorse also began to creep upon him as he gazed at the sleeping blonde curled up at his side. Part of him wished she had red hair.

Dick awoke the next morning hearing someone move around his room, trying to be quiet. He blinked sleepily, noting the place next to him was empty.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, spotting her standing at the foot of the bed, attempting to button up her blouse. He stretched his arms and yawned, but made no attempt to get up.

"Yeah, listen, Dick, when I came over last night …" she began uneasily.

He smiled sadly, knowing this was coming.

"The thing is, I'm going to be busy, really busy. I just don't think I'll really be able to get much more free time …"

"It's okay, Bette," he said softly. "Although if you had told me before that last night was going to be break-up sex, I probably would have worked a little harder," he added with a grin.

She rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. "Cute. You really need to stop being so handsome, Dick Grayson."

"Can't. Believe me, I've tried."

Bette took his hand. "I can't be with you anymore."

He squeezed lightly, encouraging her to go on.

"You're in love with Barbara Gordon."

He said nothing. There was no point in denying it.

She leaned over and kissed him. "Take care of her. She used to be my good friend, you know."

"Take care of yourself Bette. If you need anything, ever, just call."

"My only regret is that I can't tell anyone that I slept with a superhero," she said with a smirk, heading over to the door.

"There's more of them then you'd think," he replied, grinning. Then he added quickly, "I mean, uh, that kind of came out wrong. I meant there's more superheroes who have relationships with civilians than you'd think. I wasn't just talking about myself …"

She rolled her eyes but laughed again.

Dick didn't bother dragging himself out of bed until he heard the front door shut and even then waited a bit longer to start looking for pants. Eventually, he found himself standing at the window, watching the snow falling, when an idea struck him. He quickly checked his watch then pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Timmy. You busy today? I don't believe that. You're on winter vacation. Want to do some Christmas shopping? Good, I'll pick you up in an hour or so."

* * *

The holidays had crept upon them and brought several new layers of snow. Patrols were cut short since no one wanted to stay out in the freezing weather all night, most villains included. So more of their efforts were spent on the team, or at least, their free time was spent at the Cave socializing with the other young heroes.

M'gann, always one to jump on traditional Earth customs, insisted on a Christmas movie marathon that would include cookie decorating (or eating for those less artistically inclined.) When she spotted Conner trying to make a quiet getaway, Barbara intervened by getting M'gann and La'gaan to promise to refrain from being all over each other during the party. It was pretty skillful diplomacy on her part. But it helped when Nightwing finally showed up and took a seat at the foot of her armchair next to Superboy. He shot her a grin over his shoulder and she could have sworn he winked behind his expensive sunglasses.

Barbara surveyed the room, finally starting to feel content as she watched her teammates interact so happily. Cassie, either by coincidence or some mischievous design, had ended up on the sofa sitting between Jaime and Tim. When the two girls made eye contact, Barbara smirked and Cassie gave her a very small wink. Karen had joined M'gann in the cookie decorating, with Mal and La'gaan adding helpful critiques of their sprinkle and frosting techniques. Gar, monkey-like as always, was curled up on the arm of the couch. And Nightwing was trying to explain to Conner why exactly _It's a Wonderful Life_ was considered a Christmas movie. Wally and Artemis even dropped by, during which all of the cookies, frosted or otherwise, disappeared.

The holiday itself found the Gordons again at Wayne manor for Christmas dinner. Stuffed with turkey dinner with all the fixings, the group cheerfully retired to the living room with the huge Christmas tree in the corner for egg nog. The nog was Alfred's secret recipe and came with a disclaimer to drink at one's own risk. Barbara eagerly accepted a cupful.

They had managed to convince the butler to finally stop butler-ing and join them. He was currently involved in a very intense chess match with Tim while Jim and Bruce observed.

Feeling sleepy, Barbara didn't even realize Dick had left the room until he came back and sat down next to her.

"Hey, almost forgot to give you your Christmas present," he said, holding up the small red box in his hand.

"Oh, gimme, gimme," she said, smiling and reaching out for it. She pulled off the ribbon and wrappings, finding what looked suspiciously like a jewelry box. His gaze felt particularly intense as she hesitated before opening the velvet box.

Dick had bought her jewelry before, for birthdays or Christmases past but it was always the casual, wearable stuff, things similar to what she already had and wore on a daily basis. Like fun earrings or a cute charm bracelet. This necklace was completely different.

"Dick … is that …" she whispered, staring at the gleaming gems before her. The gold chain bore an intricate little pendant with about a dozen or so little jewels surrounding one slightly larger one.

"Diamonds? Yeah, do you like it?" He sounded so unsure of himself.

"It's beautiful." She finally thought she trusted herself to look at him but instantly had to blink away moisture until his face came into focus. "Help me put it on?"

He nodded and carefully freed the fine chain from the box. She turned and lifted her hair out of the way, closing her eyes momentarily when he leaned close to loop it around her neck. His hands rested on her shoulders for a brief second and then she attempted to gather her wits to face him again.

"Thank you, Dick. I love it," she said breathlessly. On impulse, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug; she felt him return the embrace just as tightly. Over his shoulder, she caught sight of Jim trying to give them a furtive glance and Bruce smirking as he pretended to continue watching the chess match. Barbara couldn't bring herself to be too annoyed at their audience.

She dared to conquer another cup of egg nog, this time snuggled under Dick's arm and occasionally sharing with him. By the time her dad announced they had really better be getting back to the city, her eyelids were heavy with sleep.

As she hugged Tim goodbye, he asked her if she had liked the necklace. "Because Dick dragged me through every single jeweler in Gotham. Some we even backtracked through, before he finally made a decision," he complained.

"I appreciate your suffering, Tim," she told him, kissing his cheek.

* * *

"Let me see it."

"See what?" Tim tried, avoiding her gaze.

Barbara stopped, hands on her hips. "Batman and Nightwing already told me. There's no point in trying to keep it from me."

Tim groaned, turning slightly pink under the lines of his domino mask. "Fine, promise not to laugh?"

"Not too hard. Now let's see it."

With a sigh, Robin reached into one of his utility belt compartments. "I haven't found a good place for it. Can't really hang it up in my room and it feels rude just to get rid of it." He pulled out a piece of paper that he unfolded and flattened out.

Barbara grinned appreciatively, taking the paper from him to examine the crayon doodle signed in block letters: NELL LITTLE. "She's very artistically talented for a six year old. Look, there's your cape and mask. And she got the R symbol spot on."

Tim snatched it back from her grip, and started off again down the hallway of Mount Justice, stuffing it safely away in his belt.

"It's sweet," Barbara said earnestly, following the younger hero.

"I don't get it. Why isn't she your fan?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're Batgirl," Tim said, with emphasis on the word 'girl.'

"Just because she's a girl doesn't mean she has to like Batgirl. Besides, Robin is a gender neutral name," she said thoughtfully. "Not to mention Robin is more kid friendly."

"Robin has always been a boy though."

They finally made their way to the main room where the rest of the team was gathered.

"For now, sure. Were you really going to be Robin for the rest of your life? You'll grow out of the mantle like Nightwing …" she trailed off with a shiver as the man himself happened to look up and catch her eye. Completely ignoring Tim, she drew forward to the group.

* * *

She could feel his eyes on her, intense and roaming.

It made trying to listen to assignment details very difficult when she kept making eye contact with Nightwing and he somehow managed to look so focused on the outside but still give her heated looks when no one else was looking. She couldn't even see his eyes through his mask but the knowledge of his gaze just made her insides clench and her heart speed up.

Barbara wondered if he was getting as bothered as she was and decided to make it her mission to check him out just as intensely. Almost every time she passed him, she gave him the up-and-down appreciative once over. Sometimes, she wondered if he even made a point of turning or walking away from her to test if she would look. She always did. Was it a fail or a pass?

Cassie had certainly been right in her assessment that Nightwing was easily the most attractive male on the team. Not that Barb had ever disagreed.

But since Christmas, something had definitely changed. It was a strange sort of limbo where they maybe knew the direction it could take but for some reason it just hadn't happened yet. Last spring, life and tragedy had literally gotten in the way and they never progressed. On her end, she didn't even know what she was unsure of still. He had already made it clear the thing with Bette was over. The other day, Bette had sent her an invitation to lunch for some time next week (obviously having to plan ahead like a true executive businesswoman) that she decided to accept.

And while the necklace wasn't exactly a declaration of love, it couldn't be a gift from just a friend. Did that mean it was her move? Or maybe she was just imagining it all.

She would have continued to believe this unhappy thought if she hadn't overheard gossip in the kitchen, the day before New Year's Eve. Normally she passed up on eavesdropping on personal conversations, but she realized it was about her. And Nightwing. So she silently hid just out of sight of the doorway.

"So, how about Batgirl and Nightwing?" said Karen.

"Hmm, yeah, they seem especially troubled lately," M'gann said thoughtfully.

"If by troubled, you mean if you were to leave them alone in a room it would probably spontaneously combust," Karen pressed.

"I guess that's one way to put it."

"They were practically having sex with their eyes the other day during mission briefing."

"You can't even see Nightwing's eyes," the Martian pointed out.

"Trust me, girl, you don't need to."

"Oh, I believe you. Their feelings were radiating off them. It was a bit difficult to shut out," M'gann finally admitted. "I mean, they've always had sexual tension but it hasn't been this bad since last spring …"

"Ten bucks says they do it before the end of the year," Karen says, and Babs can hear the smirk in her voice.

"I don't know, we probably shouldn't make bets about our friends' love lives."

"Aren't you curious?"

"Yeah …" They fell silent for a few seconds. "Hold on, I'm asking Robin if he'll come by the kitchen for a moment."

Silently, Barbara squeezed into a dark alcove. Tim didn't even notice her when he finally walked by and entered the kitchen.

"What's up, Miss M?"

There was a pause, as they obviously tried to figure out how to word the question. Karen was the first to decide.

"Have Nightwing and Batgirl done it?"

"Done what?"

Barbara put a palm to her face, slightly amused. _Oh Tim_.

"Oh! You mean, uh, I don't know. I don't think so. But I doubt that's something they'd tell me." Poor kid sounded really uncomfortable. "Why?" he added cautiously.

"Surely you've noticed the lust filled googly eyes they've been making at each other the past week?"

"Right. Well, I don't think they have yet."

"You're putting down ten for before the end of the year?" M'gann clarified.

"Yup. You in?"

"Okay, fine. But ten dollars, that's it."

"Great, Robin, you'll have to let us know when it happens," Karen added.

Robin spluttered. "What? You're betting on … What am I supposed to do? Ask them?"

"Aren't you supposed to be a detective?"

Barbara decided she heard enough and squeezed out of her hiding spot before the three of them could disperse from the kitchen. At least now she had confirmation that the feeling of Dick undressing her with his eyes was not just her imagination. She shivered and hurried for the zeta tubes to head back to the Gotham.


	5. Part Five

**A/N:** This is the last part of this story! Thank you for sticking with it!

I timed it perfectly. A nice love scene for Valentines Day.

This chapter is kind of more of a high T rating. Nothing explicit. But I probably wouldn't read it with my mom.

I do have a few things in mind for a possible sequel, or maybe just companion pieces but don't hold your breath. I got attacked by a few other plot bunnies I need to handle first. Possibly. I know this probably didn't wrap up everything so there's always room for more.

_***EDIT***: The next story in this series is called** Intuition**. Check it out!_

Thank you again for all the reviews and support.

* * *

**Part Five**

"Ugh, I vote not to be a part of the squad you're going to send after Clayface tomorrow," said Barbara, grumbling as she carefully unloaded the samples from her utility belt, setting them in a test tube rack on the laboratory counter.

"Sure, but don't say I never did you any favors," Dick said with a smirk, peeling off his mask.

It was not how she had wanted to spend New Year's Eve, crawling through mud and sewers with Nightwing, stuffing soil samples in to test tubes. But the escape happened during the party and Bruce claimed that Lucius Fox was forcing him to stay and schmooze with the board and stock holders. And who would question Dick and Barbara sneaking off to be on their own? Both had blushed furiously when their mentor pointed this out.

At this point, they were mostly just trying to find the trail and figure out where Clay went since the villain disappeared as soon as he was free from Arkham. They had taken small samples of every suspicious looking pile of mud they came across to analyze back at the cave but had not run into the escapee himself. Hopefully analysis would show a traceable route. Or he would make an appearance so the team could follow up.

In any case, Barbara was not looking forward to once again scrubbing the grime out of her hair. She knew she ought to feel sorrier for Alfred, who had to actually clean her suit, but her hair was the more pressing problem at the moment.

"Testing these isn't really time-sensitive so I'm going to take a shower," she announced, grumpily.

"Good idea, you reek, BG," he teased, counting all the neatly labeled test tubes.

"You don't smell like daisies either, Wingnut," she returned, turning towards the hallway that led to the showers and changing rooms.

"Don't worry, I'm sure my daisy perfume is down here somewhere." He followed her, turning off at the first doorway. She continued on towards what was pretty much her own personal changing and shower room.

She hadn't really started to feel like the Batboys had accepted her until the sizable, peach tiled room had appeared just down one of the cave corridors. Perhaps it was just that one too many awkward moments had pointed out the downsides of a coed facility. Now, however, Batgirl really was a permanent fixture in the cave.

The doorway itself was open but an inner wall blocked the rest of the room from view. It was markedly more feminine than the other room but not girly. The front part served as a dressing room complete with hangers and a mirrored vanity, while a short wall and sunken floor divided a showering area. There were two shower heads, sometimes making Barbara wonder if maybe he was planning for the possibility to recruit another girl. The thought gave her an immense amount of pride.

Barbara pulled off her disgusting costume and left it on the floor, not seeing the point in hanging it up again, before stepping in the shower.

While it was definitely thoughtful, the idea of showering in a cave some times weirded her out, especially when she gazed up at the high rock ceiling and the pitch black shadows played tricks on her eyes. Her worst fear included the realization that some of the cave's bats might be living up there in the shadows. Every time she turned on the shower, she had an initial moment of anticipation for a storm of small, squeaking rodents swooping down as she tried to wash her hair. She was pretty sure that if it ever actually happened, she would simply ignore the 'no uniforms upstairs' rule and never shower down here again.

As she washed, she began reflecting on the finer parts of the night, including the New Year's party they had been attending before. They had flirted and danced together, like they used to. When Dick noticed she was wearing the necklace he gave her, he had smiled and she almost swooned. Perhaps Bruce realized they were having too much fun when he sent them on their wild goose chase though the ickier parts of the city.

Several minutes passed as she simply let the hot water loosen up her muscles. At least if she had to sit and analyze mud samples with Dick, she would feel comfortable and more relaxed.

It occurred to her that Dick was just down the hall, also in the shower.

Barbara gulped nervously, suddenly very aware of how hot the water was on her skin.

They were the only ones in the cave, most likely the only ones in the house right now too since everyone was probably still at the party downtown. He had been giving her those looks all week, the ones that made her insides coil and mouth dry. And while she had no idea what time it was right now, Karen and M'gann's bet came to mind as well.

_I bet they do it before the end of the year …_

She closed her eyes, thinking of how easy it would be to just wrap her towel around herself and tiptoe across. Was he even having similar naughty thoughts about her? She knew he would never sneak into her shower room, either way.

"Oh, hell," she muttered, realizing she was bracing her hands against the wall and squeezing her thighs together.

It was a bad idea. And she was trying to avoid bad ideas for a while. He probably wouldn't even go for it, anyway.

Resignedly, she gripped the faucet handle and wrenched it over to the cold water.

It was a long time before she felt calm enough to turn off the cooling spray and step out. The dress she had been wearing earlier that evening was still hanging where she left it before they went out. This night was far from over.

She towel dried her hair until it was damp and loose, starting to curl at the ends. Then she put her formal wear back on. Tonight, she was wearing her own colors, black and gold. The necklace matched perfectly and hung in just the right eye-drawing spot.

With one last reassuring glance in the mirror, Barbara turned and made her way out, avoiding the muddy Batgirl costume on the floor.

She walked very softly, not wanting her heels to click loudly on the stone floor. When she gained the main part of the cave, she noted that Dick was already seated in front of the computer, analyzing the samples. It appeared he elected not to put on his party clothes again but instead went straight for flannel pajamas and a white tee. Quietly, she stood several feet behind the tall chair.

"Hey, you were in there a while. I was worried you drowned," he commented, not even sparing a glance in her direction.

"Washing my hair. How are the samples turning out?"

"Good, there's useable stuff here. See? He left a trail along the river bank and then towards downtown," he said, highlighting the route on a map of the city.

"Hmm," she answered noncommittally. They both fell silent for a few moments.

"We missed midnight," he said casually. The large digital clock said it was already past one in the morning. "And the fireworks."

"I don't know if you realized this, but New Year's does come around again, once every year," she said smartly.

"That means I'm going to have to wait a whole year to get to kiss you at midnight on New Year's then." He still hadn't turned around.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her heart.

"It's kind of a silly tradition anyway," she said, hoping it wasn't obvious that her voice had climbed a little higher.

"I don't know about that …" He had finally swung the chair around to look at her and was promptly shocked into speechlessness.

Barbara smirked as she watched his eyes slowly make their way up her body. The look came back, the intense, lustful hunger that was about a hundred times more passionate when she could actually see his clear blue eyes. She licked her lips, the motion practically sub-conscious, but it got him to stand and come closer.

"You put on your dress," he stated.

"Mhm," she acknowledged.

"Trying to seduce me, Gordon?"

"Trying? I'd say it's working."

"I hate it when you're always right."

"Well, whatcha gunna do about it?" she challenged.

In response, he covered her mouth with his, lips demanding, tongue probing. His hands teased all over her body. She gripped the front of his shirt, returning the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. They practically melded, finally holding each other tightly as they continued to kiss for several long minutes.

Her hands managed to roam up under his shirt, feeling the taught muscles of his torso, while she broke away from his lips to kiss along his jaw and neck. He moaned her name, fisting his hand in her hair, egging her on further. "Babs," he said hoarsely. "We should go up … upstairs …"

"Or we could stay here," she murmured, mischievously. She paused, eyes flickering around the cave until they came to rest and she wondered if she even dared suggest it.

He followed her gaze. The car. "No, absolutely not, Babs. He would kill us."

"Batman doesn't kill."

"He'd make an exception."

"Only if he found out."

"He would."

"I thought you'd be more adventurous," she teased, looking up at him, so close the tip of their noses touching. For some reason, featuring him in her fantasies also seemed to put her imagination to good work.

He kissed her again then said, "Maybe another time. Besides, I'm pretty sure we still have the whole house to ourselves. If anyone were home, they would have come down here."

"It's so far," she pouted.

He smirked, then picked her up and threw her over his shoulder in a one armed carry.

"Ah! Dick! No! That's not what I meant!" she laughed, squirming but not trying very hard to get out of his grip.

"Hm, you have really great legs, Barbara. You should consider changing your Batgirl costume so it has a skirt," he commented, running his fingertips along her skin.

She shivered. "Dick! I can walk up the stairs! Put me down!"

He affectionately slapped her rear in response. As payback, she reached down and pinched his.

"Hey! Careful, I don't want to drop you down the stairs!"

He finally set her down at the top of the stairs, before the entrance to the study.

"There, I did most of the heavy lifting-"

"Hey!"

"Now I think you should have to carry me the rest of the way. It's only fair."

"I have a better idea." She pulled him in for a deep kiss until they stumbled into the house. "Race you to your room," she said, giggling and taking off. Her heels didn't make it very far so she chucked them off her feet as she dashed up to the second floor.

"You left a shoe on the stairs, Cinderella!"

He caught up with her and pinned her against the door to his old bedroom. As they embraced again, he fumbled around with turning the doorknob and they fell inside.

After he had securely closed it, he turned to see her standing just before the bed, looking at him lovingly.

"Babs," he murmured, stepping over to her. He put a hand to her cheek and her eyes closed as she gently leaned into his touch for a moment.

She turned and brushed her hair out of the way. "Help me with the zipper?"

* * *

"That thing you did, you know when you …" Dick sort of waved his hand in a vague imitation of the motion, still panting slightly. "Is it weird that it kind of reminded me maneuver seven?"

Lying on her stomach next to him as they took a short rest, Barbara looked up at him with an eyebrow raised. Then she snorted with laughter, making the task of catching her own breath somewhat tougher.

"I guess so …" he muttered as she tried to contain her giggles.

"Dick," she said tenderly, reaching out to trace his cheek and jaw with her fingertips. He grasped her hand and kissed her palm, then her wrist, then leaned over and caught her lips again.

* * *

Barbara awoke first, snuggled up to his side. The curtains had not been closed the night before and early morning sunlight streamed in through the large gap, right in her eyes. She stretched and hugged him closer, causing him to stir as well.

"You didn't leave this time," Dick said, almost sounding hopeful.

"This is a nice bed."

His arm around her tightened slightly.

"And I need to stop leaving."

He turned on his side to face her, taking her hand and lacing their fingers. The light struck her hair just right, illuminating the auburn strands spread wildly across the stark white pillow case. Her lips were full and pink and he could see the beginnings of a few love marks on her pale, slender neck. Even with the sheet pulled up so far, Dick thought she was radiantly beautiful.

She focused on their linked hands then took a deep breath and asked, "Do you love me?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. He'd loved her almost all of the ten or so years he'd known her. "Babs, I know I hurt you, and I am sorry for that. But you push me away all the time," he said quietly.

"I know. I want to make this work."

"Me too." He lightly squeezed their clasped hands.

"I'm difficult. I'm not tall and blonde and perky. I hold stupid grudges and do stupid things. I'm not her."

"I know," he told her, leaning closer to kiss her neck lightly.

"You sure?" she asked weakly, feeling vulnerable.

"You're strong and beautiful and brave. You've always been there for me. You're everything I want, Babs," he murmured, lips now on her collar bone.

"Well, I guess when you put it that way …" she said faintly, attempting to ignore his wonderfully sinful mouth on her skin. "You're going to have to be open and honest with me too, you know."

"Of course. I always end up telling you everything anyway."

"I need to know I'm enough. Dick, look at me. I …" she faltered slightly at the intensity of his blue gaze. While it had been so easy to fall in love with him, it was so heart achingly hard just being in love with him at times. "I try so hard to be enough for me and to prove myself and it's so exhausting."

"Is this the same Barbara Gordon who insisted on being Batgirl with or without Batman's approval?"

"That's different …"

"No, that's you. I wouldn't change a thing. Okay?"

Her self-worth was never dependent upon him. She could say that honestly. And she no longer felt like she was second string to Bette. In fact, it almost surprised her how much more of an understanding she seemed to have of the other girl. The insecurity of him picking her first was fading; he had picked her last.

Slowly, she nodded in agreement. "I want all of you too."

"Good. Then if you don't mind, I'd like to make love to you now," he said, his mouth returning to her throat, and then slowly trailing down her body. She simply moaned his name in response. Slowly, they gently pleased each other as the sun continued to rise.

* * *

Having breakfast soon became a strong motivator to get out of bed and take a shower. But when they exited the ensuite bathroom, Barbara quickly realized she had not planned ahead for her previous night's impulsiveness and brought anything else to wear. She gathered up and put her underwear back on but now stood there sheepishly, holding up her wrinkled dress.

"Um, Dick, sweetheart …" she began.

"Huh?" He looked up from buttoning his jeans.

"Got anything I could borrow?"

He smirked, realizing her problem. "What's wrong with that?"

"You really want me to do the walk of shame down to breakfast?" she hissed.

"You think wearing my clothes will make that better?"

She flushed red, still glaring.

"Babe, with how loud you were screaming last night, I don't know what you think you're going to hide." He looked way too smug after that comment.

"Dick …" she began warningly, possibly about to lobby some threat about that being the last time he would ever get to hear her scream his name like that.

"Alright, alright. Just a second," he said, putting up his hands in surrender before going back to rummaging through the armoire. A moment later, he tossed her sweatpants and an old mathaletes sweatshirt with his last name on the back.

"Thanks," she said, deciding to ignore the subtle possessiveness of him lending her something with his name on it as she pulled on the articles.

He was just about to open the bedroom door when she put a hand on his arm. "Wait," she said, pulling him around to face her. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

"Babs, at this rate it will be dinner time before we make it downstairs," he teased.

"I just wanted to say, I mean, I didn't say it earlier …"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

* * *

She really had no idea how, but Alfred had managed to anticipate their arrival in the kitchen. They found two warm plates with French toast and fruit on the counter.

"Well, this is a little awkward," said Dick as they climbed on the barstools in front of their plates. "I think technically, protocol dictates that I'm supposed to cook you breakfast."

Barbara laughed and poured them coffee.

They were half way through their plates when Alfred returned to the kitchen, followed shortly by Tim, still in his pajamas. The butler strode over to the stovetop across from them.

"Good morning, Miss Barbara, Master Dick," he said. "Master Tim, I am making French toast for brunch. Is that satisfactory?" he added, already adding more egg soaked bread to the skillet without waiting for his answer.

"Yeah, sounds great, Al. Barbara, you're still here. So, when did you two get back?" Tim asked, trying to sound casual.

Dick and Barbara traded sideways looks before she said dryly, "You can tell Karen that M'gann won."

"What?" both boys said

"They had a bet," Barbara explained to Dick. "You need to tone it down when we're at the Cave, by the way. I think everyone realized there was something going on last week."

Dick frowned slightly then rounded on Tim. "You were in on this bet?"

"No! I mean, I was present, but it wasn't my idea!"

"You're starting to sound like you'd love to volunteer for the squad I'm planning to send after Clayface later today."

"Aw, come on!" Tim complained. His plate was finally slid in front of him and for a few seconds, he busied himself with vigorously covering the toast in powdered sugar and syrup. "Al, I'm taking this in the den," he decided, picking up the sugary mess.

"Alright, but if I find a sticky mess anywhere later on, you will find yourself preferring to confront Clayface instead, Master Timothy!" Alfred called after him. "Do you two require anything else?" he asked, now preparing another plate, most likely to take to Bruce.

"No, thanks Alfred. You're the best," said Barbara, smiling.

"That is what I've gathered, Miss Barbara," he said, almost smiling as he left the kitchen once more.

They continued lazily finishing breakfast, the meal interspersed with more sticky, sweet kisses. Eventually, they ended up in the entrance hall standing in a long embrace.

"I should get home now," Barbara said between numerous kisses.

"You could stay," he countered, holding her tightly. "Not like you can't get to the Cave from here."

"Dick …"

"And I can't kiss you there." It didn't help that he was so good at it; even spending the whole night being heartily kissed by him had done nothing to desensitize her.

She placed a hand to his mouth, forcing him to stop and listen to her. "It's time."

"Can I at least take you out to dinner tomorrow?"

"I'm working at the library until seven. You can take me out then," she conceded.

"Deal. I love you."

"I love you, too." She allowed one more breath taking kiss before pulling away and gathering up her things. Her dress, heels, and clutch from last night had ended up in a nice garment bag by the door, along with a pair of more sensible shoes.

"Remember, you promised I wouldn't be on the Clayface mission."

"I dunno, I wouldn't want anyone to think I was playing favorites," Dick said thoughtfully.

She gave him a look. "See you later, Dick," she said pointedly, making her way out the large doors to her car.

For a long time, Dick stood at the windows by the front door, watching as her car drove off down the drive and disappeared. He was lost in thought, trying to contemplate the implications of entering into a relationship with Barbara.

"You know, her father carries a gun." Bruce had snuck up on him.

"I was having a good morning, you know."

"I also hear she works for Batman."

"It's awkward when you try to make jokes," Dick pointed out. "And I'm aware that you've been on her side this whole time."

His father shook his head. "I'm not on anyone's side, Dick. I want both of you to be happy."

Putting on a smirk, he said, "I think most dads are just supposed to say congratulations and don't forget to use protection."

"I think we're past that conversation," Bruce replied, his own smirk somewhat more subdued but still noticeable.

They fell silent for a few minutes, just looking out the window. It had started snowing lightly.

"But you do need to be careful in regards to her. Especially with this plan you and Kaldur have come up with," Bruce said quietly.

Dick turned his head so hastily that he heard a small pop of the joints. "How did you- never mind, stupid question," he amended as Bruce raised an eyebrow reminiscent of the expression 'I'm the goddamned Batman.'

"It has potential to be a very good plan, given you anticipate all the variables, but they will never forgive you for not telling the truth," Bruce continued. "They may understand it, or say they do, but it will not be easy."

"I can handle it," Dick assured his mentor and himself. "I can handle it."

"When she finds out, she will understand why you kept it from her from a tactical viewpoint, but not a relationship one."

"She won't find out."

"Yes she will."

"What makes you so sure?"

Bruce looked at him strangely. "I trained her."

If Dick felt nervous at that proclamation, he carefully schooled his expression in hopes he wouldn't notice. "I need to get to the Cave. I have work to do before everyone else shows up," he said, finally turning away from the window.

"Good luck."

It was going to be a difficult year.


End file.
